Domestic BBQs and other food related matters
by Sherlock River Hekate
Summary: Just some domestic-ish fluff for the 2016 MacGyver reboot. The stories are pretty much what the title implies. A series of times after missions when MacGyver and others are relaxing and eating food. Does involve an OC. Can be set anytime after the first episode.
1. Domestic BBQs

I shrugged off my jacket and dropped my keys in the key bowl as I walked through the door. After spending most of the day inside at work, I was looking forward to sitting outside by the fireplace and having a nice drink.

I climbed up the stairs, calling out to the two I could see sitting by the outdoor fireplace already.  
"Hello," I greeted them, "Everyone." I added, as I saw more people once I reached the top of the stairs.  
The blonde head of Angus MacGyver, and his housemate's dark head could be seen sitting by the fireplace. Off a bit, and previously out of my line of sight, stood MacGyver's work mates, Riley Davis, Jack Dalton and his boss Patricia Thornton.  
"Didn't know there was a work meeting here, Mac," I said as I made my way over to the group.  
"Not a work meeting," Patricia clarified, "I did have some paperwork to drop off and I found that all the people I was looking for just happened to be here."  
I nodded, it wasn't unusual to find Jack and Riley here when they weren't busy on missions. Having consulted with the Phoenix Foundation before, I knew the truth of what the 'Think Tank' really did.  
I took a seat next to MacGyver, taking the beer bottle out of his hand.  
"Thought you didn't like beer," He laughed as I handed it back.  
"I don't," I replied breezily, "But the fridge is all the way over there."  
At that Jack burst out laughing and Mac just shook his head at me.  
"She's your girlfriend," Jack laughed.

We spent a while sitting on the deck, talking and looking out over LA. After a while, I started to feel hungry, it was probably close to dinner time.  
"Hey, Mac," I said, "do we still have that BBQ meat in the freezer?"  
He looked at me for a moment, thinking. "Yea, I think we do." He smiled.  
"Guys would you like to stay for a BBQ?" he asked, standing up and pulling me to my feet.  
There were noises of agreement from all parties, even Director Thornton.  
"Mac, my man," Bozer shouted out, "Is there any mince in there?"  
MacGyver stuck his head in the freezer, searching for a moment before pulling back.  
"Yea," he affirmed.  
Bozer turned to Riley, "Little lady, you get to experience my world famous burgers!" He sauntered over to the kitchen, pulling up his sleeves to start making the burger mix.  
Riley just shook her head, turning to Jack as he started to speak.  
"You may be making the burgers, but I'm going to be the one cooking." The way he said it wasn't a question.  
"Go ahead, Jack," MacGyver replied, gesturing in the general direction of the barbeque.  
I turned to the blonde, my head cocked in question.  
"Which of us will make some salad?"  
Mac had already started to walk to the fridge, pulling out salad ingredients.  
"I will," he turned to me and tossed me the butter, "You make dessert."  
I caught the butter, placing it on the counter and walking to the cupboard next to the fridge.  
"What do you want then?" I asked him.  
"I know what I want," He replied, smirking at me as he looked straight at me.  
"Dude, we can still hear you," Jack called.  
I laughed, "How do Baileys brownies sound?" I called out before quickly placing a kiss on MacGyver lips. "Later," I murmured.

Bozer didn't take long to make the burger mixture, taking the patties over to Jack to cook, along with the rest of the meat to be cooked. Mac and I danced around each other, each preparing our own foods. I poured some Baileys into the chocolatey mixture, before stirring and depositing the batter into the tin and then into the oven.  
"Hmm, tastes alright," I said, licking the stirring spoon.  
MacGyver turned to me, eyes twinkling. "Is that right?" He asked.  
He stepped closer to me, wiping a spot of batter off my nose and then pulling me into a kiss.  
Eventually we pulled away. "Yea, tastes good," he confirmed.  
I heard a cough from behind me and slowly turned. Riley was standing there, eyebrows raised.  
"I was sent to tell you two love birds that the meat's done." She placed her empty bottle down on the counter and turned to me.  
"You gotta help me, they're arguing over the best way to cook a burger," she pleaded.  
I laughed, walking around the counter to stand with her.  
"Come on, we can show those boys how it's done," I smiled as we made our way back to the rest of the group. MacGyver joined us a few moments later with the salads and then some plates.

We sat around the fireplace, eating and laughing as the sun went down. As it started getting chilly I curled up against MacGyver, trying to gain as much body warmth from the blonde as possible as he wrapped an arm around me.  
"Who would have thought," Jack stated, looking at the two of us.  
Patricia nodded. "It's good seeing you happy MacGyver," she said with a small smile.  
The impact of Nikki's betrayal didn't need saying, but the past is in the past. And this, this is the future. 


	2. Sweets for Sweets

Angus MacGyver had just finished an overseas mission. The brief had said that it would be a fairly simple mission; go in, get the newly developed weapon, get out again. But things never seem to go MacGyver's way. The mission took longer than expected, and he had been in a rather interesting little fight. Okay, little was an understatement. He was currently sporting a bruise on his knee bad enough that it wouldn't bend, multiple bruised ribs and he wasn't sure, but a possibly sprained wrist (it could just be bruised as well).  
Unlike his house mate, Wilt Bozer, his girlfriend was aware of the true nature of his work. That was both good and bad. Good that he didn't have to lie to her, which made life a little simpler. Bad, because she and Riley were now quite good friends and the tech expert was in the habit of informing his girlfriend when he was in trouble.

It was late when MacGyver returned home from the mission. Quietly, he pushed open the front door to his apartment. The first thing he noticed was that it was a lot warmer than usual. The second thing was a pleasant smell. The whole room smelt like baked food, sweet and welcoming. Placing his bag down by the counter, he noticed that the entire counter was filled with cooling racks. An array of biscuits, slices and cupcakes were resting on the wire racks.  
MacGyver smiled, looking at the food sitting on the counter. He knew exactly who was responsible. He was too tired to think about eating anything on display, instead making his way to his room. All he really wanted to do was sleep.

Pushing open his bedroom door, he found his girlfriend curled up around one of his old shirts, fast asleep. With a smile he stripped off his worn clothes and eased himself down on the bed and fell asleep.

I woke up to the sun shining through the top of the blinds. The first thing I was aware of, other than the stupidly bright sun, was that the bed was quite warm. Rolling over, I saw that I wasn't alone in the bed. A blonde head and pale arm were sticking out from the blankets. My lover was home, he must have returned some time during the night.  
I looked at the clock on the wall, making out the time to be about 10am despite my still sleepy brain. I placed my hand softly on the pale arm, resting my head on the exposed shoulder.  
"Morning sunshine," I whispered quietly.  
MacGyver slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at me.  
"Good morning," he smiled, his voice croaky from sleep.  
"How are you feeling?" I asked, genuine concern in my voice.  
MacGyver rolled over, wincing slightly as he did so.  
"A little sore," he admitted, pushing back the covers. In doing so, he revealed the bruising on his chest.  
I gasped, shocked at what I saw. MacGyver looked down, a little surprised himself at the colour of his ribs.  
"I suppose I should get up and do something about my ribs," he gave me a small smile, "and knee." He winced as he swung his legs to the side of the bed.  
Together, we slowly got Mac up and into some clothes.

I walked back into the kitchen, drying my hair with a towel. Mac was standing by the array of baked goods on the counter, mobile to his ear.  
"Man, you gotta come over," drifted to me, "There is no way we can eat all this on our own."  
I stopped, trying to figure out who he was talking to.  
"You know what she's like, she bakes when she's stressed," there was a chuckle, "Jack, I'm not even sure how much food there is here, and there's probably more in the fridge."  
Well, that solved that problem. He was talking to Jack Dalton.  
I walked over and gently placed an arm around Mac's waist, careful not to put pressure on his ribs.  
"Hello Jack" I said loud enough to be heard through the phone, "Do come over, there's plenty of food and I don't expect there's anything in your cupboards."  
I heard Jack groan through the phone. "She's not wrong," He conceded. "But wouldn't you two be, you know, catching up." The suggestion behind his words was clear.  
I felt my face growing warm, and MacGyver chuckled silently.  
"No Jack," he said, "My ribs are far too bruised for any physical activity at the moment. Now please come over here and help me get rid of all this food." He said with finality, "And bring Riley with you if you can contact her," he added as an afterthought.

It was about midday and MacGyver, Jack, Riley and I sat around the fire pit, the fire not burning, nibbling at the various sweets laid out on trays around us. Well, Riley and I were nibbling, Jack was shovelling them down like there was going to be no tomorrow.  
"And now I understand why you're still single," Riley commented, raising an eyebrow at Jack.  
"No idea what you mean," he replied, voice muffled by the muffin currently filling his mouth.  
Riley just stared at him, shaking her head.  
"They won't go bad after one day," I said with a laugh.  
"But they're just so good," He mumbled, reaching for a biscuit. "And I'm a growing boy."  
"Growing round more like it," Riley quipped.  
"Shush you," he replied, only it came out more like 'thuth oo.'

In the end no one left until late that night, when everyone was too full to eat anything more. That didn't mean that all the food was eaten, Riley took a dozen biscuits and Jack at least a dozen cupcakes. But everyone looked a lot more relaxed than when they had arrived, the smiles coming more naturally now that the danger of the mission was nothing more than a memory. It was all I could ask for.


	3. Fast food, Fast love

I walked into the kitchen, to see a variety of containers, pots and moulds lining the bench. Sitting around the bench were Riley, Jack and Bozer, discussing which presidents they were each going as for the Halloween party this weekend. Bozer was dead set on the idea of everyone going as a president, and his excitement was contagious.  
"Hey all," I said as I reached the bench.  
Riley and Jack turned to see me, as Bozer started mixing something.  
"Hey, you're just in time for Bozer's mask making session," Riley told me, "Which your boyfriend has skipped out on."  
"Yeah, sit your butt down and go through this mayhem with us," Jack demanded.  
"Ah, worse luck for you," I laughed and made my way to the fridge, "I've already got a mask setting. Anyone want a drink?"  
There were affirmative noises from Riley and Jack and a 'no' from Bozer, so I grabbed some beers and leant on the bench opposite the Phoenix Foundation members.  
"Did any of you get caught in that traffic jam earlier?" I asked innocently.  
"Traffic jam?" Riley asked in confusion.  
Jack caught on quickly enough though. "Yeah Riley, you know, the one a few blocks back from where they're holding the peace talks. The talks made traffic in that area hell."  
Riley went a little paler at his words, and I knew for certain that they were somehow involved.  
"I heard something about, a bomb threat I think?" I ventured. It wasn't a difficult guess to make, they had been chasing The Ghost, and he was a bomb maker for hire. I knew that there were people out there that would like to see the talks disrupted, if he wasn't doing it purely for his own sake.  
At my words, both Riley and Jack stilled and it was Jack's turn to lose colour.  
"I, um, I think I heard Director Thornton mention it is passing," Jack recovered.  
I nodded, they were definitely involved and there was most definitely a bomb involved.  
"So, are you all coming to the Halloween party?" I switched the subject to something more light hearted.

It was later in the afternoon that MacGyver returned home, after having visited Alfred Pena's wife and 5 year old daughter. He was in a better mood than I had seen him since this whole thing started, but he still wasn't quite back to his normal self.  
Of course, the moment he had stepped foot through the door, Bozer had set upon him for mask making. His was now the only mask not setting, and Bozer was keen to get started on it before he had to leave for work.  
Riley and Jack had both left shortly after MacGyver had returned. Close as they are, I think the presence of each other was making deal with the events of the day a little difficult.

"So what was going on with the cordon around the peace talks today?" I asked Mac, as we were lazing in bed. It wasn't late, but there was a comfort in being able to just sit in bed together.  
"I found the vehicle The Ghost was using, and Jack went running in after him," MacGyver closed his eyes a moment before continuing, "As he rushed in, Jack stepped on a pressure plate. I had to find and disable both bombs before Jack could even move. It was, not fun."  
I pulled him close, not knowing what I could say. Anything I could think of seemed kind of pathetic in comparison to what they had faced.  
We sat like that for a bit, running my hands through his hair and massaging his scalp. Then Mac's stomach growled.  
"Little hungry, Mac?" I asked with a smile.  
"Yup," He replied. "Got busy at work today, forgot to have lunch," He tried to joke.  
"I could make something," I paused, "But our kitchen has been turned into a makeshift craft shop."  
The blonde chuckled, the feeling reverberating through my chest.  
"We could ask Bozer to bring something home from work," Mac suggested.  
I nodded, "He should finish in about an hour," I agreed, "If you can last that long."  
It was only after the words left my mouth that I realised the double entendre. The smirk on MacGyver's lips told me he hadn't missed it.  
"Order food first," I said laughing. "Then I can think of some ways to keep you occupied until it arrives."  
As Mac was asking Bozer to bring us food, I remembered that our kitchen come props department included Bozer's favourite substance for fake blood, chocolate sauce.

As Mac returned his phone to the bedside table, I locked one handcuff around his wrist and the other to the bed head. He gave a shout of surprised, as I walked to the kitchen to retrieve the chocolatey substance.  
When I returned, Mac was standing by the bed with the handcuffs in one hand and not much else on. One of my bobby pins lay on the floor beside the bed.  
"You really need to teach me how to do that," I commented, as I placed the bottle on the bedside table.  
"Your turn," was all he said, before I was picked up and deposited on the bed.

Later, as we lay on the bed, I heard the click of the front door shutting.  
I glanced across to Mac, who was dozing lightly with his arm around me. Despite how hungry he was earlier, I opted to let him sleep. Slowly I wiggled my way off the bed, taking care not to disturb the sleeping blonde. I grabbed my underwear and a shirt off the floor, donning them before exiting the room.

Bozer looked up as a floor board creaked under my weight.  
"Hey," he smiled, "Food's on the counter."  
I thanked him as I made my way over to the plastic bag that was wafting delicious, burger smells. As I reached the kitchen bench, I grabbed MacGyver's wallet and handed Bozer the money we owed him. He didn't notice the notes I was waving at him to begin with, his head searching through the cupboard for something.  
"Have you seen the chocolate sauce?" he asked, removing his head from the pantry and looking at me.  
I looked down, trying to hide the slight flush on my cheeks.  
"We may have used most of it," I admitted sheepishly, staring at the dried smear of sauce on my hand.  
"Huh, thought we'd run out of ice cream," Bozer mused, before looking at me properly.  
He took in my messy hair and the fact all I was wearing was Mac's shirt.  
"Oh," he commented foolishly, "right."  
I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand. "Yeah, sorry about that."  
"Nah, all good," he smiled, "Just, I do not want the rest of that bottle back. You guys can keep that."  
Bozer turned to the drying masks on the bench.  
"Take your food and go back to," he waved in the direction of the bedrooms, "whatever you were doing."  
I opened my mouth to say something and Bozer cut me off.  
"Nope, don't want to know," he said. "And you made me bring you food cause you were too busy doing that."  
I laughed at that. "In my defence, I would have cooked something but SOMEONE has turned our kitchen into a special effects art studio."  
I gave him a mock glare.  
"Go back to your genius," was all Bozer replied. "And keep it down, I don't need to hear that," he added as an afterthought.


	4. Coffee, Cupcakes, Contractor?

I was sitting in my office at work, reading through the emails that I had received since I had gone home yesterday. This was possibly one of my least favourite tasks for the day, however it did need doing. Just as I'd cleared the last of the emails from the inbox, and was about to minimise the tab on my computer, a new email appeared at the top of my inbox with a loud ping. I sighed loudly, but at least I was still on the computer.  
The sender simply said 'Phoenix Foundation' and the subject header read 'Request for contractor.' This sparked my curiosity, as normally any contractor requests are sent to HR, and then forwarded to the person in question from there. This had been sent directly to me from the Phoenix Foundation. The name was curiously familiar, but for the moment I couldn't quite pick why. So instead, I opened the email and read its contents.

I sat for a moment, contemplating what they email had said. The director of the foundation, a Patricia Thornton, had already contacted my higher ups (an email from them had arrived shortly after the one from the Phoenix Foundation) and it urged me to consider the offer. It was upon reading the name of the director for the second time that it finally clicked where I had heard of the Phoenix Foundation. It was the name of the Think Tank where my new boyfriend, Angus MacGyver, worked. I wasn't entirely sure what the Think Tank would need me for exactly, but they had asked me specifically and my superiors were encouraging me to go. I replied to the email in the affirmative, expecting a promptly reply with the address as I was promised.

Twenty minutes later I was parking outside a non-descript building in a section of LA that was all office buildings. As I walked through the door, a security officer asked me for ID.  
Jack Dalton, one of MacGyver's friends whom I had met a few times, worked for security here, so I kept my eyes open for him as I was escorted to the office of the Director.  
The door was opened, and at a desk sat a well-dressed woman with dark hair. Her dark suit complemented her complexion and she exuded an air of confidence and competence. And she seemed just a little bit scary.  
"Welcome, please take a seat," She said gesturing to the seat opposite her. "Everything that I am about to tell you is classified information and must not leave this building."  
I tried, mostly successfully, to hide my look of surprise, and agreed.  
"Phoenix Foundation isn't the Think Tank that the organisation appears to be when you look for it on the internet…."

About half an hour later I walked out of Director Thornton's office overwhelmed and definitely in need of a coffee. The Phoenix Foundation was less 'Think tank' and more 'covert operations doing things that weren't strictly within the government's control.' However, it did make their need of me more understandable. Didn't mean I wasn't in need of coffee.

A few moments later, a cappuccino in hand, I walked into a large room with a big screen attached to one wall. Around the screen were some chairs, and in one of these chairs was a blonde head that I definitely recognised.  
"MacGyver," the director addressed the person sitting in the chair, "I have the contractor we need."  
He stood up and turned to see us. A small look of shock crossed is face, and then he walked towards me with a polite smile.  
"Angus MacGyver," he introduced himself, holding out his hand for me to shake.  
So this is how you want to do this, I thought to myself.  
I smiled and took his hand. "Pleased to meet you," I replied, "I'm…"  
Before I could continue Director Thornton interrupted me.  
"I am aware of the relationship between the two of you," she said drily.  
"I recognised your name when I was looking at people for this task," she explained, "I had overheard Dalton mention your name in connection to MacGyver. And if I wasn't sure of your connection before now, Dalton's smirk would have confirmed it." She tipped her head to someone behind us. We both turned to see Jack Dalton leaning against the wall smirking and Riley Davis trying not to laugh at the situation before us.  
"Connection," Jack muttered, "Yea, they're connected, they're…"  
"Hi!" I smiled at them, cutting Jack's mutterings off as they made their way over to us. I took the opportunity to move from standing awkwardly opposite Mac to stand next to him.  
"So, what's the development?" Dalton asked.

Two loud knocks pulled me out of my own thoughts, trying to piece together what I had found and how it connected to what the others were working on. I had no idea how long I had been in my 'office', working and absentmindedly drinking coffee without actually paying any attention to the time. I stretched and walked to the door, wondering what could have happened now.  
I pulled the door open to see MacGyver leaning against the door frame.  
"Hey sunshine," he smiled, "Have you had lunch yet?"  
"No, not yet," I replied, gesturing him into the room.  
"It's 2.30," he replied slowly, staying right where he was.  
"Oh," I replied simply. I honestly hadn't noticed how late into the day it had become.  
"Grab your stuff," he instructed me, "I'm taking you to a late lunch."  
I barely had time to grab my phone and purse before MacGyver was dragging out the door and to get food.

We sat in a small café near the Phoenix Foundation, looking out over a small park. I noticed that MacGyver was alternating between fiddling with one of the sugar packets that was on the table and his cup of coffee, his fingers never really staying still.  
"Well," I began, "now I understand why a Think tank would need my particular help."  
MacGyver stopped dead at my words, eyes fixed down at the table for a few moments.  
"You know I didn't lie to you on purpose," he started, looking up from the table at me. "If it wasn't such a risk to tell you, I would have."  
"I know," I smiled softly at him, "The first thing that Director Thornton said to me was that I couldn't tell anyone.'"  
Mac laughed, "Yea, that sounds like her." He took a breath. "So you're not upset with me?" MacGyver asked, a cloud of worry disappearing from his blue eyes.  
"No," I replied, "But I am assuming I still can't tell Bozer?"  
"No," Mac confirmed, "He still has no idea."  
Just then our food arrived, which forestalled any further conversation at that time.

As I walked back into my office later that day, I found a cupcake and note on my desk.  
'Welcome to the team' was scrawled in a relatively neat hand, with 'temporarily' added underneath in a heavier, thicker handwriting. Riley and Jack, I assumed with a smile. If I was going to continue to assist Phoenix Foundation, I had a suspicion that I would be kept well fed.


	5. Making Picnics

It was a warm sunny morning in LA. The sun was shining high in the sky, despite it only being about 10am. I was walking around the house, looking for the picnic blanket I knew I had with me when I moved in. I thought I had put it in one of the communal cupboards, but considering I was living with an aspiring film director, it could have ended up almost anywhere. Asking said film director was useless though, he was still asleep.  
MacGyver walked into the room, dressed casually in jeans and a green t-shirt. In one hand he held an old fashioned wicker picnic basket and the other was holding something I couldn't quite figure out.  
"Awesome, you found a picnic basket," I commented, "But what's that?"  
MacGyver placed the picnic basket on the kitchen bench and held out the object in his other hand to me. It turned out to be a wrapped stack of plastic plates and a couple of plastic cups.  
"Cutlery for the picnic," he smiled. "Did you find the rug?"  
I shook my head ruefully.  
"Oh well," he replied, "I'm sure I can come up with something else."  
"Not the point, Mac," I countered, "you shouldn't have to 'come up with something' when I know I had one somewhere."  
He nodded, "I'll ask Bozer if he's awake before I leave."

About 10 minutes later, I was wrapping sandwiches and placing them in the picnic basket. Then I moved onto making coleslaw and a potato salad and placing some servings into containers. This picnic would have plenty of food, even if it was for only two people. Added to the basket also went rocky road, chocolate fairy cupcakes and a curiosity from Australia called 'fairy bread'. I knew the sweets were guaranteed to please the young girl who was joining MacGyver on a picnic in the El Dorado Nature Centre.  
Since The Ghost had surfaced in LA, and MacGyver had gone to see the Pena family, he had struck up a sort of friendship with his CO's young daughter Annabelle. Today he had agreed to take her to the nature park and have a picnic with the little girl. He wasn't able to save her father, but he was going to be there to give her mum a hand where he could. So a picnic it was.

A while later, all the food and a couple bottles of soda were packed into the picnic basket. Along with the food there was a bag with sunscreen and insect repellent. While I was preparing food, MacGyver had found the picnic rug (masquerading as an oil pit in one of Bozer's animations) and had put it into his car.  
"All the food is in here," I handed the blonde the picnic basket. "And sunscreen, insect repellent and hand wipes in this one." I passed the other bag over.  
"Thanks," he took the offered items in one hand before leaning over and giving me a tender kiss.  
"It's the least I can do, for you and for the Pena's," I replied.  
While I had never met MacGyver's CO, and only met his wife and young daughter twice, I owed a lot to the man. Mostly the fact MacGyver was alive today.  
"I'll see you this afternoon," MacGyver promised.  
"Don't rush, Mac," I replied, "Enjoy your picnic."

I was lounging on one of the deck chairs by the pool, the mid-afternoon sun making the water from the pool shine and dance across the pages of my book. Next to me was a plate of left over rocky road, and a cup of iced coffee. Lazily, I flipped the page of my book and reached for another piece of the chocolate slice. At that time, I heard a noise from inside the house. A few moments later I looked up to see MacGyver making his way over to me.  
"How'd the picnic go?" I asked, marking my place in my book before closing it.  
"Annabelle loved the fairy bread," he replied, pulling the other deck chair over.  
"Thought she might," I replied. The fairy bread was honestly all sugar, but it tasted amazing.  
"I'm afraid that I've handed a hyped up six year old back to her mother," he chuckled.  
"Probably," I laughed, "Would you like a piece of rocky road?" 


	6. Late Night Snack

I woke up to the sound of heavy, laboured breathing beside me. Blearily, I opened my eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness of the room. After a few seconds I was able to see, and turned to the person beside me. MacGyver was twisting and turning violently in his sleep, his eyes squeezed shut. I sat up quickly, recognising the symptoms. This wasn't the first time in the last couple of weeks that he had experienced nightmares. Being nearly asphyxiated with nitrogen by El Noche after the mission spiralled wildly out of control had left MacGyver with memories that were far from pleasant.  
Suddenly, he started lashing out, trying to push the people in his nightmare away from him. His foot made contact with the side of my leg rather sharply.  
"Time to wake," I muttered, debating whether I should switch on the bedside lamp.  
A sharp gasp for breath decided it for me, the need to wake him more urgent than a need to turn on the lamp.  
"Mac," My voice was a little louder than a whisper. No response.  
"Mac," I repeated, placing my hand gently on his shoulder. There was still no response.  
I sighed lightly, and took a breath.  
"Angus MacGyver," I said clearly, shaking his shoulder a little.  
His blue eyes snapped open, darting around to look for the source of the noise. He looked straight past me, no recognition in his eyes. As he started to recognise the room, his breathing slowed down and he turned to look at me.  
"Are you with me?" I asked gently.  
"Yea," his voice came out hoarse. "Yea," he repeated, "Just a nightmare." He grimaced.  
"I know," I said soothingly. "It's going to happen after all that, it's ok."  
He groaned, "I know, it's just so frustrating. I have no control. Did I hit you?"  
"Nah," I lied, it wasn't a hard kick so I didn't think I needed to add that to his conscience. I raised my hand to brush a stray strand of hair off his face, but he flinched at my movement.  
'Right, still stuck in his thoughts then," I thought.  
"Mac, how about we get up and grab a drink?" I suggested.  
He nodded, already getting out of bed.

A few moments later and we were standing in the dark kitchen, Mac holding but not drinking a glass of water. He stood there in his pyjamas, staring off into the night.  
"Hey," I said softly, "What are you thinking about?"  
He startled, the water in the glass sloshing out over his hand.  
"What could have happened if no one had seen my message," he replied.  
I walked over, taking the glass from his hand and setting it onto the bench.  
"But they did, and Jack found you," I smiled.  
"I know," he replied, "But that doesn't make the thoughts go away."  
Despite the dark of the night, I could see a darkness in his eyes.  
"Hungry?" I asked.  
"Not really," he replied.  
"But you could go for an ice cream sundae?" I asked with a smile.  
"Yea," there was a smile in his voice, "but only if I can get a banana fritter too?"  
I looked over to the fruit bowl, then back at the blonde.  
"I think you're in luck."

I started getting the ingredients for the banana fritters, but noticed that Mac was sitting on one of the bar stools staring at his constantly moving hands. I placed the flour on the counter.  
"Mac," I said quietly, "I'm going to the loo."  
He nodded, but didn't look up.

"Hi Riley," I spoke quietly into my phone, "Did I wake you?"  
"Nah, I was messing around with an online game," She replied. "What's up?"  
"Mac's been having nightmares," I sighed, "I'm not quite sure what to do."  
"I'm not surprised," she said, "That place is horrible."  
"Yea, just," I took a breath, "We're having a sorta midnight feast, do you want to come over and talk or something?" I asked. "He's just sitting there, fiddling with paperclips."  
"Right, that's too still for Mac," She commented, "Yea, I can be at your place in like 5."

I walked back into the kitchen, and MacGyver barely looked up at me.  
"Hey," I put my arm around him.  
"You took a while in the loo," there was a faint smile on his face.  
"Yea," I conceded, "I got a text from Riley. She was still awake and bored, so I invited her around."  
I was a decent liar, but I kept my head resting on Mac's shoulder, just in case.  
"Don't mind," he muttered, turning to give me a proper hug, "Just so long as I get my banana fritter."

Five minutes later, Riley arrived as I was mixing the batter.  
"Hey, Mac," she said quietly, "How are you doing?"  
"I'm not too bad," he responded, "What about you?"  
Riley responded with in the affirmative, catching my eye and raising an eyebrow at his lie.  
"Where's Bozer for this midnight feast?" She asked.  
"He had a late shift, so he's sleeping," MacGyver replied.  
"Won't he hear us and wake up?" she questioned quietly.  
MacGyver laughed, a genuine laugh. We both turned to look at him, partially in surprise at the outburst.  
"Nah, Bozer sleeps like the dead. Nothing wakes him," he replied, "He actually slept through a minor explosion when we were kids."  
Riley just looked at him.  
"It was a sleep over. I woke up and got a little bored," He shrugged his shoulders.  
"Mac dear," I called, "Could you get the ice cream out of the freezer?"  
"And anything else you want on the sundaes," I added as an afterthought.  
Riley made her way over to the stove where I was standing, placing halved banana slices in the batter.  
"What you making?" She asked, standing over my shoulder.  
"Comfort food," I replied cheekily. "Ice cream sundaes on hot banana fritters."  
"Oooh, nice. You wouldn't happen to have any pineapple to make pineapple fritters too, would you?"  
MacGyver was by the cupboard, where he was already looking for sundae toppings.  
"Yea, we have a tin of pineapple in here," he replied removing it and placing it by the stove.  
"Thank you," I smiled, catching his wrist and pulling him in for a quick kiss.  
"Gross," Riley rolled her eyes.  
"For that, you are on pineapple draining duty Miss Davis," I put on my most posh accent.  
She shook her head at me, but grabbed the tin and made her way to the sink, pouring the juice into a glass.

We sat around the kitchen bench, sundae ingredients spread out like a production line. Each bowl held banana fritter and pineapple fritter straight out of the frying pan. Two tubs of ice cream were also laid out on the bench, one Neapolitan and one cookies and cream.  
"Well, dig in," I said, already reaching for the spoon sitting on top of the Neapolitan.  
I added a couple scoops of ice cream to my bowl, then moved on to the sauce.  
My finished bowl held the fritter topped with ice cream covered in chocolate sauce, crushed nuts, sprinkles, mini marshmallows and crushed up biscuits. The other bowls were similarly adorned.  
We each sat at the bench, chatting as we devoured our late night meal.

Once we had all had our fill, Riley got up to leave.  
"You could crash on the couch," Mac suggested, as I nodded in agreement.  
I grabbed a spare pillow and some blankets from the cupboard, handing them to Riley.  
I looked at the mess of frying pans and bowls in the kitchen, debating if I should deal with them now or not.  
"I'll deal with it tomorrow," Mac whispered in my ear, "Thornton hasn't called me in."  
He grabbed my hand and led me back to the bedroom.  
As we both lay back down in bed, Mac put his arm around my waist.  
"Don't think I don't know why we had a midnight meal," he murmured, "Thank you."


	7. Toxic

MacGyver walked into the kitchen, placing two bags of groceries down on the counter. He started unpacking them, ferrying containers from the counter to the cupboards. He'd emptied one bag and was about to start on the second when there was a knock at the door.  
"Come in," he called.  
The door opened and a few moments later Patricia Thornton walked into the room.  
"Patricia, hi," MacGyver said, putting down the jar of jam in his hand. "I wasn't supposed to be at work today, was I?" he asked. He was fairly certain that he had the day off, and he'd had his phone on him all day so he couldn't have missed a call.  
"No no," his boss replied, "But I do have a new mission for you. When does your girlfriend get home?"  
MacGyver looked down at his wrist, checking the time. "She should be home shortly, she usually gets back from work around 5.30."  
"And your housemate?" she questioned.  
"Bozer left for work only about an hour ago," the blonde replied.  
"Good, it would be difficult to explain the mission to you with him here," she told him.  
"But why do you..." MacGyver began, before his director cut him off.  
"You'll see," she smiled enigmatically.  
MacGyver went back to unpacking the groceries as Patricia Thornton took a seat on the couch to wait.  
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Mac asked as he put the last of the groceries away.  
"No, thank you," Director Thornton replied, "Do you have any tea?"  
A chuckle sounded from the kitchen, "Plenty, what variety would you like?"  
"English breakfast will be fine," she replied, "Two sugars and a dash of milk."

I walked in to find MacGyver handing a cup to someone sitting on the couch.  
"Honey, I'm home," I called out.  
"Hey," he replied, "Grab something to drink and come over here. Director Thornton has something to discuss with us."  
I grabbed a glass of juice out of the fridge and made my way over to where my partner and his boss were seated in the lounge area.  
"Director," I nodded to her as I sat down.  
"Hello," she greeted me, "I have a new mission for Mac, but it requires you as well."  
"I'm not a field agent," I reminded her, "I've only consulted for you guys a couple of times."  
"That's ok," she reassured me, "You're mostly there as part of Mac's cover."  
I nodded in acquiescence.  
"A known dealer of pretty much everything will be in town next week. This is the first time we've actually known when he's here before he gets here. Mac is going undercover as a courier for him and will gain his confidence, but the information we really need is on his laptop. He carries it with him everywhere, but it's in a case that blocks external signals so Riley can't hack into it and get the information. The only time it's not in the case is when he's at home, but we don't know the location of that. He has a young wife, an ex-model, who from all reports enjoys having dinner parties. The aim is for Mac to get an invite to dinner, and you," here she looked at me, "are the prompt needed. One young wife to keep the other company. Once you have the location then we can send Jack and Riley to the location to hack the laptop while the two of you are having dinner. We will move the both of you into a small apartment for the duration of the mission, you can't stay here and risk your cover being blown."  
We both agreed with that, but I had a couple of questions.  
"Okay, that I can do," I told the director, "But does that mean I will have to take time off work?"  
"No," she replied, "You can continue to work as normal but there will be a protection detail assigned to you just in case."  
I nodded, "Second question, what's the cover that we should tell Bozer?"  
"Right," Thornton smiled, "There is a rich investor looking at an idea that the Think Tank has developed. Mac knows the idea the best, but the investor is a little eccentric. He won't invest in ideas unless they were developed by married people. To ensure that the funding is secured, we are going to pretend that Mac is."  
Mac kept his face carefully neutral, but I had to swallow a laugh.  
"That's not the best cover I've heard," I admitted, "but I can't think of anything better either."  
"It's agreed then?" She asked, and we both nodded. "Mac, are you right to use your previous alias, Dexter Fillmore?"  
"Yea, everything is already in the system for that name," he stated. "Are you going to have an alias?" he asked me.  
I looked at Thornton, who nodded.  
"Stephanie, Steph Fillmore then," I said.

It was two weeks later that Mac had managed to get an invitation to the dealer's house. Patricia had organised with work that I could leave early to assist of Foundation business. Really what she had done was ensure I had something appropriate that I could wear and had time to prepare a dessert like Mac had promised. I figured a white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake would be sufficient and would be easy to make.  
The house was quiet, with Mac still at work for another half hour. I took out the ingredients for the cheesecake, and turned on my ipod.

I had a shower and then started preparing the cheesecake. As I started pressing the base into the tin, a Britney Spears song came on. I started dancing to the music finished with the base and started pouring in the ingredients for the actual cheesecake.  
"Baby, can't you see, I'm calling," I started singing before I quite realised what I was doing. There was no one else home, so I continued to sing and dance around the kitchen.  
"A guy like you, should wear a warning. It's dangerous, I'm falling," I laughed slightly, the words were quite accurate for MacGyver really. He was dangerous, if you were on the wrong side. I turned on the mixer and added the chocolate and raspberries to the mix.  
I felt a hand on my waist at the line 'Do you feel me now?'  
I squeaked and jumped, not expecting the touch and a little embarrassed at getting caught singing.  
"I'm home," MacGyver whispered in my ear, kissing me on the cheek.  
"Hey," I replied, turning to kiss him properly.  
"What are you making?" he asked.  
"Raspberry and chocolate cheesecake," I replied, switching off the mixer and adding whole raspberries to the mix before pouring it in to the cake tin.  
He hummed in my ear, making me shiver.  
"Stop," I laughed, "We have somewhere to be in a couple of hours."  
"Plenty of time," Mac replied, wiping some of the mixture on my lips.  
I let him kiss it off me, before pushing him away gently.  
"No, Dexter," I said with a laugh.  
He walked off towards the bedroom, as I poured the cheesecake mixture onto the biscuit base and then placed the entire thing in the fridge.  
"With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride, you're toxic I'm slipping under," I danced around the room singing the chorus for the final time, knowing that he could hear me. I had some time to waste before the cheesecake would be set.

Half past seven saw us arrive at the house of the dealer. One house down I saw a white van parked out the front, ladders and other equipment on the roof. I knew that Riley and Jack had also found the address.  
Mac opened the door for me, and we walked together to the front door of the house.  
A young woman, about my age, with long blonde hair and green eyes opened the door.  
"Hello, I'm Tiffany," she held her hand out to Mac.  
"Dexter," he shook her hand, "And this is my wife, Steph."  
"Pleased to meet you," Tiffany said sweetly, "James will be down shortly. May I take the cheesecake?"  
I gladly handed it over, it would be better in the fridge than sitting out.  
A tall man with sandy brown hair walked into the hallway as Tiffany went to put the cheesecake in the fridge.  
"Dexter," He greeted MacGyver, then turned to me. "You must be Mrs. Fillmore, a pleasure to meet you."  
"Steph, please," I smiled at him, but inside my stomach was twisting. This man was responsible for all sorts of trafficking, from humans to drugs and weapons. But that's ok, Riley would get all the information they need to not just arrest him but the rest of the ring.

As it came to dessert time, my phone pinged. Excusing myself, I checked the message.  
It was Riley, telling me that they had all the information that they needed. The distraction was enough Mac and I hadn't eaten any of the cheesecake while Tiffany and James had eaten two mouthfuls of the cake.  
Mac and I had taken very small bites of cake, barely ingesting any ourselves. Within about 20 minutes of taking the first bite of cheesecake both Tiffany and James had slumped over, asleep from the phenergen that was in the cheesecake.  
We both got up and walked out of the house, meeting Jack and Riley out the front.  
"I guess the cake was truly toxic," Jack laughed.

It was only after that I wondered how he knew about me singing that song…


	8. Lunch Date

It was a Saturday, and so far we had spent most of the day lounging around the apartment. I sat on the couch, curled up with an Agatha Christie novel. It had been a long week at work, and she was a guilty pleasure of mine. While I sat and read, Bozer and MacGyver were playingMario kart _._ Apparently competing against each other was something the two had done since they were boys, any time they found they had plenty of time and nothing of importance to do. And surprisingly Bozer was the better of the two players, unsurprisingly he was also the more competitive.

At about midday, Bozer leapt up. He had forgotten that he promised a couple of Uni friends that he would go to a film screening, and that started at 12.30. Luckily the theatre that was screening the films was a small one literally three streets down from us.  
I took the remote that Bozer had been using and we played a few more rounds. MacGyver won these rounds hands down, my lack of coordination making it difficult for me to catch the kart being driven by the dexterous blonde. As we finished another round, MacGyver's Luigi taking the 1st position on the platform and my Yoshi finally making it to the podium at third, I looked away from the TV to check my phone.  
"Huh, it's 1 o'clock," I mused.  
The time had slipped away while we were furiously racing around the tracks.  
"Lunch?" MacGyver questioned.  
We had both eaten breakfast late but it was probably time for another meal.  
"Yea, lunch," I replied, standing and walking towards the kitchen.  
MacGyver stood up, walking behind me and spinning me towards him.  
"No," he replied, "Go put some jeans on, we're going out somewhere."  
"Like a date?" I said sweetly, smiling.  
He shook his head at me, smiling also. "Yes sweetheart, like a date."

15 minutes later we were sitting outside a small local café, each with a cup of coffee and trying to decide what we wanted to eat. After a few moments, Mac put his menu down and sat back.  
"You've decided what you want?" I asked, briefly looking up before going back to weigh up two options.  
"Yep, pesto pasta," he replied. "What about you?" he raised an eyebrow at me.  
I hummed, giving the menu one last look before putting it down.  
"The chicken and sun dried tomato focaccia," I decided with a smile. "And could you get me iced tea, please?" I gave him my sweetest smile.  
"Of course," he answered, picking up both menus and walking towards the counter.

The line was long, and Mac had been gone about 3 minutes when a guy came up to our table.  
"Hello," he said to me, standing next to our table.  
"Hi," I replied, looking up to see if I knew this person.  
"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting out here alone," I nearly rolled my eyes, flicking them to see the line inside instead.  
"I'm not alone," I told the man.  
"Not now that I'm here, you're not," he countered with a grin.  
So he was one of those people, and he was going to be hard to get rid of. I started desperately wishing that Mac would be back.  
"No, actually I'm here with someone," I told him firmly.  
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather come sit with me." He wasn't bad looking, tall and well-built with dark hair and a tan.  
Just then someone came up behind the nameless guy trying to hit on me.  
"I'm sure she wouldn't rather sit with you," MacGyver replied.  
"And who are you to answer for her?" dark and tanned stood up straight, trying to tower over Mac.  
Mac held his ground, looking him straight in the eyes. "I'm the guy sharing a house with her."  
"Just because you live with this lovely lady doesn't mean you get to decide who she has lunch with," the guy countered. I could see the muscles in MacGyver's jaw clench.  
"We already have plans," he told the guy, who was starting to get on my nerves.  
"She could still change her mind, happens you know," he winked, actually winked, at MacGyver before grinning at me. That was it, but before I could say anything Mac spoke up.  
"You'd rather have lunch with your boyfriend than this stranger, right hun?" The blonde put his hand on my shoulder, standing very close to my chair.  
Unfortunately the now obnoxious guy just had to have the last word.  
"I'm sure you're trying to be nice, kid, but you barely look 20," he said.  
I flinched, knowing that was a sore point for Mac. He hated those comments, he often got underestimated just because of how young he looked.  
"Yea, try someone in your own league," Mac ground out, his hand sliding from my shoulder to the other one, his arm effectively wrapped around me.  
This had gone too far, I did not want this guy to spoil my lovely date with my genius boyfriend.  
"I suggest you leave now," I stared at the guy, making my intention very clear.  
I leant against Mac, "Hey, isn't that John. You know, from your platoon?"  
I pointed to a random man, a few yards down the street. Mac caught onto what I was doing, and nodded.  
"Yea, from my first tour," he replied.  
Obnoxious guy put two and two together, and made a swift exit.

Mac sat back down, still visibly fuming.  
"I'm sorry about that," I said softly.  
"I'm assuming you didn't call him over here," MacGyver stated, but there was a note of doubt in his voice.  
I looked at him, staring straight into his blue eyes.  
"I didn't, he just walked over here and wouldn't take no for an answer," I told him.  
Mac nodded, relaxing into his seat.  
Then a thought came to me.  
"Mac, are you jealous?" I asked. Lying on the table next to the sugars was a green paper clip, bent into the shape of a heartbeat.  
He looked away momentarily, running his hand through his hair.  
"You were," I said with a smile.  
"Yea," Mac mumbled, "I was. He's just, a lot different to me?"  
"I am more than happy with you," I told him, "You are smart, kind and very good looking."  
"But my work and what I do. It's not exactly normal," he protested.  
"I know that," I said calmly, "Honey, I knew you weren't normal after the first date. Not many people know how to adapt a USB charger to work with a car cigarette lighter."  
He gave me a half smile. "But now you know what I really do for work, and how dangerous it is. You deserve someone who can guarantee they will come home from work."  
I blinked at him a couple times, picking my words carefully before replying.  
"The work I do has helped your foundation in the past, so at least I am aware of the nature of your work. This is no different to how army wives live every day, only I get to see you more often." I grabbed his hand across the table. "And no one can truly guarantee they'll get home from work, freak accidents happen all the time."  
"My work is a lot more dangerous than normal people's," he tried to protest, but it was only half hearted.  
"And you, Angus MacGyver, are a lot more clever than normal people," I countered, "And you have Jack and Riley watching your back."  
"You have a lot of faith in me," he said softly.  
I nodded and stood up, going to MacGyver. I leant down to kiss him, just a short kiss, but Mac pulled me closer, not letting my lips go.  
We broke off after a few moments, short of breath.  
"Do you think Bozer will be back when we finish lunch?" He asked.  
I shook my head, and Mac smiled cheekily just as our food was put down in front of us. 


	9. A Bowl of Forgiveness

I mixed the sauce into the pasta, and then dished up two servings of the food.  
"Bozer," I called out, "Dinner's ready."  
From down the hallway Bozer appeared, looking less exhausted and empty than he had in the past couple of days.  
"Smells good," he said with a weak smile, picking up one of the bowls and taking it to the table.  
"Thanks," I replied, "Cheese is on the table."  
I took my own bowl of pasta and sat down at the table. We were quiet for a bit while we ate.

"How are you handling everything?" I asked after a while.  
Bozer looked at me and sighed.  
"Better," he admitted, "It's hard to believe that there was a crazy hitman in here only a few days ago." He swept his arm around the repaired kitchen area.  
"Yea, everything seems so normal now," I mused.  
"I can't believe Mac had been lying to me for years about work," Bozer stated.  
He needed to get this out, and other than talking to Mac when it happened, he hadn't really talked to anyone else.  
"You know he didn't want to, right?" I asked. "He really was only trying to protect you."  
Bozer scoffed a little, "a lotta good that did," he muttered.  
I hummed sympathetically. It would have worked if Mac didn't have a crazy ex who was seemed to want revenge for being arrested.  
"You seem to be taking this well," he commented. And then a strange look crossed his face.  
"You already knew, didn't you?" he wasn't really asking. "How long?"  
"About two or three months after we started dating," I admitted.  
"So Mac could tell his new girlfriend, but he couldn't tell me," he exploded. "Me, his best friend!" Bozer started to stand up and push his chair away.  
"Sit down," I said, and edge of steel in my voice.  
He looked at me, and noticing my expression slowly sat back down.  
"Mac didn't tell me, I found out because I was asked to consult for the Phoenix Foundation," I explained. "He didn't even know that I had been called in until Patty, Director Thornton, and I walked into the debriefing room."  
Bozer relaxed back into his chair a little.  
"So why didn't you tell me?" He asked.  
I smiled sadly at him, "I couldn't," I said, "Patricia threatened that if I told anyone she would, with Riley's help, make it like I had never existed."  
He nodded thoughtfully. "Girl could do it too. But what about Mac, he was an employee, not a random contractor?"  
"Yea," I agreed, "But there were protocols saying what he could and couldn't tell people. He was just trying to keep you safe." I paused for a moment. "I think the other part of it was that here, with you, he could be Angus MacGyver. He could be himself. He didn't have to worry about being MacGyver the bomb tech or MacGyver the agent. Around you, he could be himself. This was sorta his sanctuary."  
Bozer nodded again, thinking it over as he ate more of his pasta.  
"What about Riley?" he asked sadly. It had really hurt him to find out that not only his best friend, but the girl he liked were both lying to him.  
"Nothing so deep as Mac's reasoning," I confessed, "But a lot like mine. If she'd told anyone, she would have gone back to prison."  
I took a sip of my water and sighed. "Two years in maximum security was enough, don't you think?"  
"She was in maximum security?" Bozer asked incredulously.  
"Yea," I said sadly, "I don't know the details, but I know it wasn't nice."  
Bozer finished his pasta, then asked, "What about Jack?"  
I chuckled a little. "Jack was CIA, he has no problems with keeping secrets. But honestly, I think he was doing what he spends half his time doing."  
Bozer looked at me questioningly.  
"He was watching Mac's back, and following his lead. Mac hadn't told you, so Jack wasn't going to either."  
Bozer stood up, grabbing his bowl.  
I hurriedly swallowed the mouthful I'd just put in my mouth. "There's more pasta on the stove."  
"Sweet," He replied, heading towards the extra food. "There's a heap in here, what were you trying to do, feed an army?"  
I loaded more food onto my own spoon as I answered.  
"I like having left overs, and I was hoping Mac might be home for dinner," I mumbled. He hadn't been home for dinner the last four days, but I could always hope.

Once Bozer had sat back down, I asked him a question that had been on my mind since Murdoc told Bozer that his oldest friend was lying to him.  
"Bozer, do you think you'll be able to forgive Mac?" I asked with a little concern.  
Carefully, he put his fork down and looked at me.  
"Honestly, I think I already have," he confessed. "I think I forgave him the moment he walked back into the conference room at Phoenix, after he'd gone to the car yard to face Murdoc and get the others out. The moment I saw he was unharmed, I think I realised that it didn't matter, so long as my best mate was safe."  
I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding, relieved with Bozer's response.  
"How do you do it, though?" he asked, "Knowing every time he goes on a work trip that he could be hurt or killed?"  
I pushed my nearly empty bowl away, suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore.  
"On the easier missions, I stay in contact with Riley or someone at Phoenix who can give me updates," I admitted. "On the harder ones, or when things go sideways, I bake to take my mind off it and I just have faith in the team. I have faith in Mac's skills to get them out of situations and I have faith in Jack to watch my boy's back. Seriously, Mac can get them out of almost anything using the stupidest things."  
Bozer was silent for a second, then he laughed.  
"Yea, that's my man," he gave me a proper smile, which was more than I had seen from my normally enthusiastic housemate in days. "Have I ever told you about the time…" He trailed off as the door opened, both of us on edge.  
"Hey everyone," MacGyver called out as he appeared from the door way.  
We both relaxed, but the spark I had seen in Bozer's eyes was more dull now.  
'Forgiven but not forgotten,' I thought to myself.  
"There's pasta on the stove," I told Mac, picking up my bowl to place in the sink. "You might want to reheat it."  
I turned to head to the couch, leaving MacGyver to join Bozer at the table to eat.

They both ate in silence for a couple of minutes before MacGyver spoke up.  
"I'm sorry for not being home these past few nights," he said to neither of us in particular. "I've had a ton of paperwork to do after the Murdoc case."  
"You're like a secret agent and you still have to do paperwork?" Bozer asked.  
"Yea," MacGyver admitted mournfully through a mouthful of food.  
"Man, that sucks," Bozer replied, though his tone lacked any real emotion.  
There was more silence, but this silence felt different. Then Bozer spoke again.  
"Mac, does this mean you can do some really cool action stunts and stuff?"  
Mac choked on a laugh. "Yea man, I can do some stuff like that."  
"Awesome," Bozer was suddenly more excited. "You see, I was thinking that….  
I didn't hear the rest of the sentence, my attention drawn away by my phone buzzing in my hand.  
I opened the text to see it was from Riley. 'How's Bozer doing?' it read.  
I twisted to look over the back of the couch at the two men at the table.  
Bozer was sitting adjacent to MacGyver, his arms moving animatedly as he explained the stunt he had in mind. The blonde nodded and smiled in between mouthfuls of pasta, his eyes lit up in a way I hadn't seen since he had found out about the hit on him.  
I took a photo with my phone, sending it to Riley.  
'I think they're going to be just fine,' I replied.


	10. Chocolate Cure

I woke up and blinked into the darkness, trying to figure out what had woken me. I felt the bed shift beside me, and loud gasping sounds were coming from the blonde beside me. Turning over, I saw my partner twisting in the bedsheets, writhing like he was trying to get away from something. Abruptly, he stopped breathing, holding his breath. I froze, not sure what to do then he let his breath out in a rush and started gasping for air. I sat upright, realising that he was having a nightmare.  
"Mac," I hissed.  
He kept gasping and choking, still trying to get away from the people in his dream.  
"MacGyver," I said more loudly, hoping he would hear me and wake up. I got no positive response, and I was starting to worry he was going to hyperventilate.  
"Angus," I tried his first name, knowing that he never used it and hated it. "Angus MacGyver, wakeup!"  
This time I did get a response, Mac sitting straight up and opening his eyes. His breathing slowed to a more normal pace, and he looked around the room.  
I relaxed and smiled at him.  
"Hey, everything okay?" I asked softly.  
His eyes fell on me and widened.  
"What are you doing here?" He hissed. "Keep away from me."  
I saw that his eyes were glazed over, and then he started moving away from me.  
"No, no please, no," he pleaded.  
My heart broke hearing him, and I realised he still hadn't woken up. There was nothing I could do, he thought I was someone else and I couldn't wake him up.

Hurriedly I got up and moved away from MacGyver, heading towards the bedroom door.  
"Bozer," I called out as I swung the door open.  
Inside the room, MacGyver was still mumbling and had started hyperventilating again.  
"BOZER!" I shouted more desperately for our housemate.  
This brought his oldest friend rushing from his room, still pulling on a t-shirt.  
"What's happened?" he asked in a rush.  
I pointed into my shared bedroom. "Mac, I think he's having a nightmare or panic attack." I said brokenly.  
Bozer rushed into the room, and I stood in the doorway.  
"I couldn't wake him," I said, "I think his brain twisted me into Nikki," I said bitterly.  
His friend nodded, then knelt down by MacGyver, who was huddled on the floor.  
"Hey, Mac," was all I heard before I turned and walked into the kitchen.

I filled the kettle and set it to boil. As I placed the kettle down, I noticed my hands were shaking. In fact, now that I was alone in the darkened kitchen, I realised that my whole body was shaking slightly. I leant against the counter, taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly. After a few moments, my hands had returned to being mostly steady. I took out three mugs from the cupboards and placed them by the kettle, before turning to the cupboard. Rifling through the shelves I found a packet of chocolate chip cookies and a packet of Oreos. Grabbing both, and the drinking chocolate, I turned back to the now boiled kettle. I prepared hot chocolate for both the boys, and a cup of earl grey for myself.  
I couldn't hear any noise from the direction of the bedroom. While that wasn't necessarily a good thing, it did mean that no one was shouting at least. Cautiously, I made my way to the door of my bedroom. There was murmuring from inside, voices low but calm. As I looked around the doorframe and into the room, I saw Bozer and MacGyver sitting on the side of the rumpled bed talking.  
"We good in here?" I asked gently.  
Both heads turned in my direction, one looking exhausted and the other looking slightly worried.  
Mac opened his mouth to reply, a croak coming out instead.  
"Yea, it's all good," Bozer replied for him.  
"Awesome," I replied, "I'll be right back with hot chocolate then."  
With that, I returned to the kitchen to retrieve the drinks and chocolatey cookies.

A few minutes later, we were all sitting on the bed with our drinks clutched in our hands. Mac and I were sitting with our backs to the head board and Bozer was sitting towards the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing the two of us. The two packets of cookies were laying open and half eaten between us.  
"Can opener?" I asked gently, referring to the codename we had given Mac's mission in the super max prison.  
He nodded, looking down at his mug.  
"Man, that's nothing to be ashamed of," Bozer reminded him. "What that dude did to you, anyone would have nightmares."  
Slowly Mac looked up from the drink he had both his hands wrapped around. He looked at Bozer and then me, blue eyes clouded in memory.  
"When I was stuck in the trunk, I couldn't get past the fact I might never see either of you again," he admitted quietly.  
I took one of my hands off my mug, and wrapped it around the blonde's shoulders.  
"But you did your thing, and you got out," Bozer reminded him, "And now those sons of bitches can't hurt anyone else."  
Beside Mac, I nodded in confirmation.  
"I will admit," I told him, "I was scared as hell the whole time you were in there. Especially when Jack couldn't find you after you broke out."  
We were all quiet for a moment, before Bozer spoke up.  
"This is all sweet, and depressing," He stated. "And to fix that we all need another cookie."  
He picked up the Oreo packet and shoved it at us, shoving one in his mouth so that his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel.  
That definitely broke the sombre mood, making both me and MacGyver laugh at his ridiculousness, and I felt the remaining tension in Mac's shoulders dissipate.


	11. Gingerbread and Chisels

I rushed up the stairs to Patricia Thornton's office, not really paying much attention to the people I passed by. I had got a text to my phone from Andie Lee, Thornton's assistant, telling me that things had gone south while MacGyver and his team were in Latvia. All they were supposed to be doing was collecting the leader of a supposedly ISIS related cell, so what exactly had happened was left up to my (overactive) imagination.  
Andie met with me as I approached the Director's office.  
"She's not in there," the dark haired woman told me, holding a tablet to her chest.  
"Okay," I replied, falling in step with her, "Where is she then?"  
We took a detour down a corridor, heading towards the conference rooms if my memory served me right.  
"Both the director and Mr Bozer are in conference room three, where Riley is keeping in contact with us," she informed me.  
We stopped outside a door, Andie unlocking it and then pushing it open. Bozer turned towards the door, stalking towards it with his mouth opened. Then he saw that I was standing in the door way, and stopped dead.  
"Are you here to take me home?" he asked, both hopeful and a little deflated.  
I stepped into the room and Andie shut the door behind me, leaving the two of us in the room alone. Director Thornton wasn't anywhere in sight currently.  
"No, not here to take you home," I replied, "But here to sit and stress with you."  
With that, Bozer closed the space between us and wrapped me in a tight hug.  
"Man, they nearly didn't make it to the embassy on time," he gushed, "Those guys, they were right behind them, shooting."  
I shook my head. "Not really information I wanted to hear, Boze," I said honestly.  
We both sat down in front of the screen, keeping an eye what was going on.

When MacGyver decided that he was going to turn a couple of doors into shields and rush out with Jack to get the Marines back into the building, I started swearing at the screen.  
"What the hell is he thinking?" I shouted.  
"You know full well what MacGyver is thinking," Patricia said dryly.  
"Yea, that if he has to take a hit to get the Marines back in, well it's totally worth it," I spat out.  
"My boyfriend is a freaking idiot."  
Bozer slung his arm over me, and I turned to look at him. He smiled a little, the look he gets when he has an idea. He turned to Patricia, his head tipped to the side and a charming smile on his face.  
"Director, do you have a kitchen of some sort in here?" he asked sweetly.  
The director of the Phoenix Foundation thought for a moment, then smiled. I think she knew that Bozer was trying to distract me with baking.  
"We don't have a fully functional kitchen, but there should be mixers and an oven in one of the laboratories," she informed us, just as MacGyver and Jack made it back into the embassy building safely.  
All of us let out a sigh of relief, and then I realised that I didn't have any ingredients to cook anything.  
"Patty, if I'm going to bake then I'm going to need ingredients," I told her, "And I doubt you keep baking supplies here."  
She shook her head at me, "No, there aren't any in the building, but there is a store at the end of the road."

10 minutes later, I was standing in one of the Phoenix Foundation laboratories with flour, butter and spices all around me. I had decided I was going to make gingerbread men for when they returned. Because they had to return, I wasn't going to think otherwise.  
Bozer stayed in the conference room, partially so he knew what was going on, and partly because he wasn't actually cleared to be down in the Foundation's labs.  
I took my time, carefully making the gingerbread dough and making them into the biscuits. I knew that if anything happened, anything serious at least, Bozer would call me.  
I had one batch of gingerbreads in the oven, and was finishing cutting up the dough for the second batch of biscuits when my phone rang.  
Hurriedly I wiped my hands down and grabbed my phone. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw the caller ID.  
"Bozer, what's happened?" I asked, the worry in my voice evident.  
"The Latvians are falling back," He told me, but his voice didn't sound as jubilant as it should have with that news.  
"That's great, isn't it?" I replied.  
"It would be," he sounded grim and my stomach knotted, "If they weren't waiting for reinforcements."  
I knew that Patricia had organised reinforcements to help our boys out. "When are our reinforcements getting there?"  
"In three hours," he replied.  
"And their reinforcements?"  
There was a pause before Bozer replied, "In two."  
I knew instantly that there was no way that they could hold up against that many people for that amount of time. I felt sick.  
Just then the timer for the oven went off.  
"Bozer, I'm going to take these cookies out and put the next batch in, and then I'm going to be right up there," I told him.  
"Thanks," he replied, "thanks."  
I hung up and dealt with the oven, my hands shaking ever so slightly.

I knocked on the door to conference room three, and swiftly it opened and Patricia Thornton, face grim, ushered me in.  
"We aren't 100% sure what's going on in there," she told me. "Riley isn't able to get any messages out to us, and we aren't able to get any through to her either."  
I closed my eyes, taking a few breaths.  
"So all we can do is wait and hope?" I asked.  
The older woman nodded sadly. The mood in the room was incredibly sombre.  
"Hey, they've got Mac," Bozer spoke up, "I can guarantee my man is thinking of a way out as we speak."  
"Yea," I agreed, but I was still worried, "Yea, I'm sure he is."

About half an hour later, the gingerbreads were sitting cooling when there was a call through to Director Thornton. Bozer and I sat there, tension evident in our bodies. We all but held our breath while Patricia was talking, waiting to hear the news.  
She put down the phone and turned to the both of us.  
"They are all out of the building and safe," she informed us, the relief evident in both her voice and her face.  
I let out my breath, the knot of worry in my stomach unravelling.  
"How?" I asked, knowing full well that our reinforcements hadn't arrived yet.  
Thornton smirked at me. "Apparently MacGyver made improvised explosives from sugar and trapped the insurgents in the building, allowing everyone to climb out of the second story and drive to safety."  
Bozer let out a laugh at that. "Course he did! My man, coming through again," he looked so happy.

The team walked through the door, Bozer running to hug Mac and then checking on Riley. Once his attention had turned to the techie, I made my way to MacGyver myself.  
"We thought you weren't going to make it out," I breathed, holding him close.  
"So did we," He admitted, resting his chin on my shoulder.  
We pulled apart a little, still not game to actually let go of each other yet.  
"You smell like gingerbread," the blonde mused.  
I laughed, gesturing to the plates of cookies sitting on the conference table next to the bowl of paperclips.  
"Bozer's idea," I admitted, "To keep me calm after I started swearing at the screen."  
"You should have seen Mac," Jack was in the middle of retelling an event to Bozer. "This grenade came through the window..."  
Beside me I felt Mac still, and I wondered what was coming next.  
"And Mac, he just bent down and picked it up and tossed it back out the window. Like a second later the thing exploded."  
I turned to face him, an incredibly unimpressed expression on my face.  
"You did what?!" I nearly shouted.  
Mac pulled me into a kiss, stopping my rant short. In the background I could hear Riley, Jack and Bozer laughing.


	12. Brownie Remedy

Autumn was cold, the wind bitter and cutting through my layers of clothing. Even the short distance that it took to get from houses to cars or cars to buildings was too far. People were hurrying between buildings, huddled in coats and their heads bowed to the breeze. I looked across the window in my office to see Jack Dalton sitting in his office. Looking at him, I had the thought that the weather outside matched his mood. Grey clouds hung heavy in the air and threatened rain, enough to linger at the back of your mind and niggle all day. There was something on Jack's face that made me think that there was something else that was niggling at the back of his mind.  
He, Mac and the rest of the crew had returned from a mission only a week ago. That mission had been a bit of a mess overall. Nikki had made a reappearance, claiming that she was a CIA agent, and trying to get back with Mac. On top of that, Sarah Adler, the one person that Jack had thought for a long time that he would marry, had gotten married and not to him. The final messy piece was that the former director of the Phoenix foundation, and a friend to us all, Patricia Thornton turned out to be a traitor. It had been a mess of a mission and a mess for everyone emotionally.

I looked away from my computer screen, staring blankly at a middle distance as I tried to work out the best way to word what I was explaining. I needed to get the right spot between smart enough to sound knowledgeable and not too scientific that no one would understand what I was saying. It was then that I heard a loud bang and I looked over at Jack. Through the glass walls of my office and into his I saw him lift his fist off of the desk and shake it a little. He huffed at the computer in front of him and then rubbed at his temples. He didn't notice me watching him, and slowly rested his head on his arms. This wasn't normal behaviour, even with his absolute dislike of writing reports. Not much would make Jack punch an inanimate object, however Jack wasn't very open with negative emotions, preferring to bottle them away. I had a feeling that this minor outburst was the start of a very large dam breaking.  
I checked the time and sent off a quick fire text to my partner. I finished off more of my report while I waited for his reply. I think I spent more time sneaking glances at Jack than actually working on the document on my computer. I snatched up my phone when it sounded, reading the reply from Mac. He said that he was free, not sure about the others, and that he was sure the new director wouldn't mind if they took some time out.  
The new director, Matty Webber, had known Jack from a while back. Though she seemed like a bit of a hard ass, she was caring.  
I shut down my computer and threw a coat on over my work clothes. With a determined mindset, I walked to the doorway of Jack's office and knocked before opening the door.  
"Jack, doing much?"  
"I, umm," he ran a hand over his face. "I was just, working on this report?"  
I got the feeling that he had been spending the better part of the last few hours stuck in his own head rather than actually working on the report.  
"Mac's just finished some work, and I'm done with my report." I told him. "We were going to take a break at the little coffee shop down the alleyway. Want to join us?"  
It was a risk. Hanging out with his friends could improve his mood, but the fact that it was with me and Mac might remind him of his own singleness.  
A small frown furrowed his brow, before he sighed and looked at me.  
"You know what? Why not, a change of scenery could do me some good."  
I smiled at him with a nod.  
"Come on then, put your jacket on," I encouraged him.  
He shook his head at my enthusiasm and stood up.  
"Why the hurry?" He shrugged on his leather jacket and we walked to the elevator.  
"Mac's waiting for us." I said simply. "Best not to keep him waiting too long. There'll be a pile of paperclips otherwise."  
That got a genuine laugh from Jack as we approached MacGyver.  
"What's so funny?" the blonde asked with an amused look.  
Jack actually laughed harder, worryingly bordering on hysterical.  
"I just imagined you, with a pile of paperclips. Like up to your neck in paperclips, man." Jack choked out.  
"Right. Jack, I think you need a coffee." Mac told him, shaking his head.  
"I think he needs more than just coffee," I muttered.

We were sat in a small café, decorated with comfortable chairs and mismatched furniture. Mac had spotted a small table with a group of chairs next to a quietly burning fireplace.  
Like the excited child he could sometimes be, Mac ran ahead to secure our spot, while I snagged a couple of menus from the counter.  
We chatted aimlessly while we decided what to order.  
It wasn't until our drinks and an array of danishes and cake were placed in front of us, that Mac got serious.  
"I know this last mission has been a bit of a mess, for all of us." He started.  
Jack snorted at that comment. "More than a bit, brother."  
"True," Mac conceded. "I just wanted to see how you were going?"  
"I'm good. Going as well as can be expected," Jack replied instantly.  
I pinned him with a glare. Jack looked at me, and I stared back at him. Jack broke eye contact first, lifting his cup for a drink.  
"No one could be good after what happened," I said to him. "Mac still startles wakes with a thousand what ifs running through his head."  
"Okay, there are a few things that still worry me." Jack admitted. "I'm not a Brainiac like you," he nodded to Mac, "but I do find myself wondering if things had gone differently. Not just with Patty but with other things too."  
I looked over at Mac, who looked at me before looking back to Jack, who was now trying his hardest not to look at either of us.  
"Jack," I said, "It's okay to wonder. We all do it. Even I've been doing that recently. I hate to admit it, but Nikki showing up really threw me."  
Jack nodded slowly. "I can't imagine her reappearance would have been something you wanted."  
I laughed dryly. "No, I wasn't happy about it. And I wasn't happy that Mac didn't tell me as soon as she made an appearance either."  
Jack looked over at the other person at the table.  
"You didn't tell her?" he asked in surprise.  
"I was a little preoccupied at the time," Mac mumbled into his coffee. "It wasn't a big deal. Even when she tried to start something again, I wasn't interested."  
"Man, your crazy ex reappearing while you're away on a mission is definitely something you should tell your current girl. Even I know that." Jack said in exasperation.  
"That's what I told him," I smiled at Jack. It was a brittle smile; I was still a little bit upset.  
Mac reached for my free hand under the table, linking our fingers.  
"I know for the future," he said. "Not that I'm hoping for Nikki to reappear again."' He added quickly.

We let that topic drop and our conversation drifted for a while.  
Jack was munching on a plate of brownies in front of us. He was eating them with some enthusiasm, which was good to see.  
"These are some damn good brownies," Jack stated, mouth half full. "Not as good as Sarah's but still plenty good."  
Mac made an interested noise and Jack continued.  
"Don't know what it was about hers. She musta put something in them. They were just gooey enough, and had this awesome creamy alcohol taste to them. Seriously, I should get the recipe off her." Here he trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.  
"Bailey's brownies," I said. "It sounds like she added bailey's to them. Either poured it over or added it to the batter."  
"Adding it to the batter would cook the alcohol out, right?" Jack said.  
"Yea it would," I confirmed.  
"Then nah, she poured it over. Sarah wouldn't cook the alcohol out of anything," he laughed a little.  
He lapsed into silence again for a moment.  
"I can make Bailey's brownies for you one day, Jack," Mac said gently. "They won't be the same as Sarah's but we can try."

"I have a question for you both," Jack said after a few moments.  
Mac looked up from the little contraption he was building from sugar packets, straws and a spring that had appeared from somewhere unknown.  
"Go on," he encouraged.  
"How did you do it? When you two met you couldn't even tell her that Phoenix wasn't a think tank. You came home more often than not with bruises and disappear for days on end with little to no explanation." It came out in a rush, like Jack had been thinking over this for a while.  
"Well, you're right about the coming home covered in bruises thing," I said wryly. "I worked out pretty quickly that Mac wasn't that clumsy."  
"I'm not clumsy at all. Former EOD tech, remember?"  
"I've seen you first thing in the morning, sweetie," I replied.  
Jack nodded while Mac shook his head.  
"Honestly Jack, I'm not sure. I looked at all the possible options that could get her into the loop as soon as possible. Other than that, I just hoped she would trust me and that I'd get back in one piece after each mission." Mac shrugged a shoulder.  
"You've got yourself one fine girl, Mac," Jack said, before turning to me. "I'm not sure why you stayed when we couldn't tell you what was going on. I know that you knew, you're smart. But I'm glad you did."  
I smiled, hiding a blush behind my coffee cup.  
Now that Jack was talking he couldn't seem to stop. "I thought what I had with Sarah was good. She knew what I did, and she could share where she was going with me. We worked well together, hell we worked almost as well as you and me, Mac. I don't know what happened?" Jack trailed off miserably.  
"You two kept it together despite the secrets and I couldn't even hold onto my girl when we had full disclosure."  
The older man stared despondently into his coffee cup, like the black liquid could answer his questions.  
Mac and I shared a look, not quite sure who should take the lead on this conversation.  
"You and Sarah were good together," Mac started. "I've read the reports and I saw you both in action last week. There was something there, and Sarah obviously still holds you close. She invited you to her wedding. BUT, maybe what you had in common was the problem."  
Jack looked up at Mac like he was going slightly crazy.  
"Let me explain," Mac continued. "With all the craziness in our lives, maybe Sarah wanted something boring and dependable. Our lives are unpredictable and often dangerous, and perhaps Sarah wanted the opposite in her private life. Maybe she is lying to her husband a little bit about what she does, but then he doesn't worry about if she will come home."  
Mac stopped and looked at Jack, seeing if he was taking this in. Jack's eyes were a little unfocused as he stared into the distance.  
"Okay," Jack said finally. "Okay, I think I get that. Or at least I can see where you're coming from. But if it's hard to have a relationship with someone who can't say what they do, and the people who have similar jobs want something dependable, then what chance have I got?"  
It was a fair question.  
"You have as much chance as the rest of us, Jack," I told him honestly. "We were lucky. I met Mac and I found my perfect person. Even with all the secrets, there was a part of me knew that Mac was, to be totally cliché about it, the One."  
I smiled at the blonde next to me, and he smiled back. I could see the love he held for me, and knew he had felt the same way.  
"I probably never told you this," I said quietly, "but I had been single for probably six years when I met Mac. My last relationship ended when I started Collage, and looking back it had been a pretty terrible one at that. I had given up hope of actually finding anyone worth dating, I had thrown myself into my work. It was pure chance that I came across this one." I squeezed Mac's hand gently.  
"Anyway, what I'm saying is. Your romantic relationships don't define who you are as a person, and no matter what society says or what other people want to make you believe, not being in one is just as okay as being in one. You have people around you who love you and care for you anyway. In all your stubborn, karaoke singing, Bruce Willis loving glory."  
I let that sink in for a moment.  
"What if I don't ever meet someone?" Jack asked softly.  
"Then you don't meet someone," Mac replied. "That's not to say don't try. Go out on dates, have some fun. But if it doesn't work out, then it isn't that big of a deal."  
Jack started pulling apart the paper napkin on the table, shredding it as he thought about what we had said.  
After a couple of minutes I could see that Mac, who was always doing something, had started to get fidgety. I squeezed the hand that I was holding and he started to draw patterns on the top of it with his other hand.  
At length, Jack slowly stopped massacring the poor napkin and looked back up at us. There was something unreadable but vulnerable in his eyes.  
"I always wanted a family," he said, "but that might be a dream too far for the sort of work that we do."  
"It might make the white picket fence dream a bit difficult," I agreed. "But you can try."  
"And if it doesn't happen," Mac added, "You still have a family. You've got me, Riley. You're a bit like a father figure for Riley, Jack. And a brother to me."  
Jack looked a little taken aback by that.  
"I'm not that old, brother," he joked. "But in all honestly, thank you. I guess I do go a bit protective on you guys. It's nice to think you see me in the same way."  
"Always, Jack. We all care about you."  
While he had been talking, Mac had procured a paperclip from somewhere. He was fiddling with it, having taken his hand out of mine to do so. He slid the finished product across the table. The paperclip had been twisted into an infinity symbol.  
"Thanks man," Jack said, picking up the paperclip. He looked at the time, and finished off his now cold coffee.  
"We should probably head back, before Matty sends a search party out for us."  
I drank the last sip of coffee from my cup as well.  
"She'd get Riley to track your phone first," I commented.  
Jack and Mac both laughed as we left the coffee shop, Jack looking better than he had in a while.


	13. Pizza Party

It had been a stressful few days for everyone. First gathering intel, then getting to Kazakhstan, capturing the war criminal and finally, to top it off, crash landing in the forest. Then, not long after getting back, Matty sent them on a new mission to Kuwait.  
As a result, the usual celebratory meal had been postponed. But now that everybody was back, Bozer and I were busy in the kitchen.

"How many do you think we need?" I called out, piling ingredients in my arms.  
"7 or 8, at least," Bozer called back. "We're feeding Jack, remember."  
"I think we have enough flour and eggs then."  
I carried everything to the kitchen counter, spreading it out.  
Rolling up my sleeves, I looked at Bozer.  
"You can do the honours, signorina." He gestured at me.  
I dumped handfuls of flour on the bench, then eggs and water into the well. On another bench, Bozer was setting out toppings. While I kneaded dough, he chopped peppers, mushrooms and ham, or dumped other toppings into bowls.  
Roughly, I separated the big lump of dough into eight equal portions, covering all except one with a damp tea towel. The last segment I placed back on the counter and started attacking it with the rolling pin.

Mac walked in the front door as I finished rolling that piece of dough into a pizza base.  
"Hey, looking good," he said as he came up to me.  
"Me or the pizza?" I asked jokingly.  
Mac wiped a stripe of flour off of my face. "The pizza, though you look good too."  
"Hey man," Bozer called. "When are the others getting here?"  
"Jack said he's waiting for Riley. They'll be here in probably 15 minutes."  
"Good," I nodded, "Shall we start topping this one or do we wait for them?"  
Mac and Bozer shared a look and Mac peaked a look at how much more dough I had.  
"Nah, we'll start this one." He said. "They can help with the others."  
Bozer brought some of the bowls over with a jar of tomato sauce.  
"This one shall be a supreme," he announced, opening the sauce.  
I turned to take a jar of herbs from the bench.  
"If we're doing this, we're doing it properly," I said, scattering herbs over the sauce spread on the pizza base.  
Bozer narrowed his eyes at me but acquiesced, while Mac just laughed and grabbed a handful of ham.

The first pizza was done by the time Jack and Riley arrived. When they arrived, Jack bearing beer and cider, Mac made his way outside. He had created a pizza oven and was starting to stack the wood to light it. It was large enough to fit two of the pizza inside at a time.

By the time my blonde genius had the fire going in his pizza oven (it wasn't a traditional pizza oven, we are talking about Angus MacGyver), all bar two of the pizzas had been made. It was quick work with four people rolling and topping them. The pizzas were sitting lined up ready for Jack to transport to the oven. They were sitting in pairs, two each of supreme, meat lovers and Hawaiian. The toppings were still being placed on the garlic margherita ones.  
I had a small ball of dough in my hand. It wasn't quite enough to make another pizza, not the size of the other ones at least.  
Mac walked in, Jack trailing behind.  
"The first lot are in the oven," Mac announced. "What are you going to do with that?"  
I tossed the dough between my hands, thinking.  
"What about a banana pizza?" Mac suggested. "Just a small one."  
"Banana pizza?" Bozer asked incredulously. "I love you Mac, but no way man."  
Jack and Riley were both in agreeance with him.  
"You come up with some strange ideas, brother. But that's just too far." Jack commented.  
"I didn't come up with it," Mac said defensively. "It's a Scandinavian thing. They really enjoy banana pizzas, so I figured we could try it."  
Riley looked vaguely nauseous at the suggestion and Bozer was shaking his head. Behind Mac I could hear Jack muttering something including 'Scandinavians, rotting fish and insane.'  
"I think that's a 'no' to the banana pizza, Mac," I smiled.  
He nodded, "Yea, possibly." He looked from the dough to the cupboard with a look in his eyes. We knew that look all too well. MacGyver had an idea and he was going to make it happen.  
He strode over to the cupboard and stared pulling out marshmallows and chocolate sauce before moving to the fridge and grabbing a punnet of strawberries.  
"It's not banana pizza, but strawberries and marshmallows kinda make a s'mores pizza," he said.  
I nodded, rolling out the dough to make a base.  
"Why do you have mini marshmallows? They're pointless," Riley asked.  
"I use them for rocky road," I replied. "Easier than cutting up the big ones."  
Riley thought about it then nodded in agreement.

By the time the dessert pizza was finished, the first two savoury pizzas had finished cooking and I had chocolate sauce smeared on my face. In retaliation Mac had icing sugar from the marshmallows on his top and in his hair. The kitchen however, was clean. Bozer and Riley had cleaned all the dishes and put ingredients away. They didn't trust us to mot make more of a mess with the dishwater if left on our own.  
Jack walked in with more cooked pizza, placing them on the clean counter to be covered in foil.  
"The kitchen is clean, but you two are a mess." He gestured between me and Mac.  
"No one messes up Bozer's kitchen," Mac said seriously.  
"Human beings in the kitchen, on the other hand," I shrugged, before reaching for the aluminium foil.  
"Yea, you two get cleaned up and meet us by the fire pit," Jack instructed. "Food's not too far off being ready and the beer's still cold."  
He grabbed more uncooked pizzas as we made our way to the bathroom to clean up. The sauce on my face was sticky and not going to be the easiest thing to wash off. At least I had experience washing off chocolate sauce.

We were sitting around the fire pit, each holding an open bottle of drink. The smell of the pizzas wafted to us, making my stomach grumble loudly.  
"We could cut up the already cooked pizzas and start now, you know," Jack commented.  
"I'll be right," I replied. Then a moment later. "Which ones are already cooked?"  
"Supreme and Hawaiian," Bozer replied.  
My stomach growled again and I looked at it in defeat.  
"You know what? Get the pizzas, let's get started."

It was later in the evening, and most of the savoury pizzas were completely demolished.  
Jack was trying to explain the lightning-bottle-phone charger contraption that Mac had built, but he was failing hilariously. Mac took over the explanation, talking at 100 miles per hour until he got to the part about placing the bottle in the clearing. He stopped and looked at me, before saying the last part.  
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.  
I shook my head at him. "It was dangerous, yea. But if you hadn't been able to call for help then you would all have been in far more danger."  
"Hell yea," Jack commented. "Did you see the sorts of fire power those guys were packing? They were serious, man."  
Bozer looked pale. "You're gonna give me a heart attack, Mac."  
I laughed. "Since when is that anything unusual, Bozer? He's perfectly capable of getting into trouble no matter what he's doing."  
"You're not upset about the 'nearly getting electrocuted by lightning' thing?" Mac looked at me quizzically.  
"No," I replied simply, "For two reasons. The first being that if you hadn't tried it you would almost certainly have been killed. So it was the lesser of the two evils. And the second, well, it's you. You knew what you were doing and how to make it work. You aren't lucky, you're just that good."  
Jack looked at the two of use as Mac pulled me into a hug.  
"He's a little bit lucky," Jack countered.  
"Jack's right," Mac began, but I put a hand over his mouth.  
"Nope, no, you're wrong. Mac's just that good," I replied, turning to Jack. "Just let me have that belief, yea?"  
He pointed his bottle at me and then nodded.  
"So, when are we putting that s'mores pizza on?" Riley asked, breaking the moment.  
Bozer and Mac eyed each other.  
"Now I suppose, if everyone thinks they'll eat it,'" Mac replied.  
"Right on, brother. Let's get this thing in!" Jack was incredibly enthusiastic about it.  
With a look at Jack, Bozer stood to get the sweet pizza.  
"This is why we needed eight pizzas," he said to me, before walking inside.  
Jack shrugged. "What can I say? You guys cook some good grub."

Once the pizza was cut and placed on the table outside, Jack almost dove for a piece. He picked it up with his fingers, but very quickly dropped it onto his plate. He shook his burnt hand.  
"It's really hot," he complained.  
"Of course it is," Bozer exclaimed. "It's covered in sugar and just came out of the oven."  
"What does sugar have to do with anything" Jack asked in confusion, wrapping his hand around the cool beer bottle.  
"Sugar has a low melting point," Mac began. "So it gets hot really easily. As it gets hot it melts, but holds onto the heat, sort of storing it. Add the stored heat to how sticky the warm sugar is and you're guaranteed to get burnt if you pick up something warm and sugary straight out of an oven."  
""Thanks for that science lesson," Jack grumbled.  
"Hey, you asked," Mac countered.  
A few minutes later I reached over and poked a piece of pizza before picking it up.  
"It's cool enough to eat now," I said. "I think."  
With that announcement, everyone went for the pizza.

"We should make pizza more often," I said sleepily as we lay in bed.  
"The pizza oven did work well," Mac mused. "And it cooked them in less time than a normal pizza oven."  
I hummed in agreement.  
"Imagine the different sweet pizzas we could make. Or even savoury ones, Bozer's sure to have some ideas." Mac said excitedly.  
"Another day, Mac," I mumbled. "Go to sleep."  
With that I switched off the light and rolled over. Mac threw an arm around my middle and drifted off to sleep.


	14. Hot Milk and Honey

I leant my head against the headboard with a sigh. Closing my book, I placed it on the bedside table and switched off the lamp.  
"Going to sleep?" my partner asked.  
"Yea," I replied, "Don't stay up too late fiddling."  
Mac chuckled and dimmed his light as I lay down.  
"Night, sweetheart."  
He ran his fingers through my hair a few times before moving his hand down to link his fingers with mine.  
I rolled away from the light, pulling his hand to my chest. Before long, I had drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

I half woke later, feeling the bed shift and a warm weight settle behind me. A leg was thrown over mine in the bed and I shifted to settle better into his arms. Shortly after that, I fell back asleep.

Much later, I woke again. The light was switched on at the other side of the bed, casting a dim light into the room. My fingers were still linked with Mac's but he was no longer lying beside me.  
I scrunched my eyes up, opening them before letting his hand go and reaching for my phone.  
The light from the screen, despite being turned down as low as possible, was brighter than the bedside lamp that Mac had turned on. It also read 3am.  
With a groan, I pulled myself up to sitting, resting against the headboard.  
"Have you got any sleep?" I asked.  
"No," Mac replied, running a hand through his blonde hair. "I tried at about midnight, but I couldn't sleep so I sat back up."  
I rested my hand on his leg comfortingly. "Nightmares or insomnia?"  
"Insomnia" he said with a frustrated sigh.  
"I would have thought that the army had cured you of that," I smiled softly. "I've seen Jack fall asleep in some of the most inexplicable places."  
"It has, for the most part," Mac replied. "I can fall asleep on the plane no problem. But sometimes at home it's harder."  
"The difference between work and home in your head, I suppose," I said, thinking.  
Mac thought about it for a bit and nodded, starting to fidget.  
I slid down the bed, pulling Mac with me until we were both lying down.  
"I don't think just lying down will help," he told me.  
I raised a finger and put it on his lips. "Ssssh, just relax."  
I rested my head on his chest and Mac automatically ran his fingers through my hair.  
We lay like that for a while, and I felt Mac's breath starting to at least slow a little. He was tired, but even as I felt myself starting to fall asleep I knew that he wasn't.  
I felt him shift, trying to move without disrupting me. "It's alright, love. You go to sleep,"  
I sat up and threw the covers off. "Come on, let's see if we can do something about your lack of sleep."  
"But don't you need to be up for work?"  
I shook my head at the tired genius. "It's Sunday, I have a whole day before I have to work."  
At that, Mac quietly followed me out of the room and to the kitchen.

I switched the kettle on as I walked past it, knowing that I had filled it before I went to bed. Mac sat at the kitchen counter, his fingers beating a quiet pattern on the surface.  
"Tea or hot chocolate?" I asked him. There was no way I was feeding him coffee when we were trying to sleep.  
Mac paused for a beat then replied. "Warm milk. With honey and cinnamon, please?"  
I chuckled but moved towards the fridge to retrieve the milk carton.  
"Why milk?"  
It wasn't common for Mac to drink warm milk, even when he had woken from nightmares.  
"Tryptophan," Mac replied.  
I pulled cups out for our drinks (I had decided on a tea blend with lavender and chamomile to aid my own sleep), and waited for the blonde genius to elaborate.  
"Tryptophan is an amino acid, commonly found in protein rich foods. Tryptophan is converted into melatonin by the body."  
"Melatonin is responsible for the body's sleep wake cycle," I commented with a grin.  
"Exactly," Mac smiled tiredly at me. "There have been studies that show an increase in tryptophan consumption can improve sleep. And dairy products, like milk, have high tryptophan levels."  
I nodded. "What about the cinnamon and honey?"  
Mac looked at me sheepishly. "I like the taste." He admitted.  
I giggled quietly.  
Briefly I contemplated warming the milk with honey and a stick of cinnamon on the stove top. But that would take too long when all we both wanted was to get back into bed and sleep. Instead I poured milk into the cup and added a spoon of honey and a spoon of the cinnamon paste Bozer kept in the cupboard for baking.  
With the milk in the microwave and my cup of tea steeping, I returned the milk to the fridge. It was then I saw a few slices of carrot cake sitting on a shelf.  
"If high protein foods contain more tryptophan, does that mean Bozer's carrot and walnut cake would also help?" I asked. I was going to have slice regardless of the answer, I was feeling hungry.  
"I can't see why not," Mac replied, coming around to look over my shoulder in the fridge. "I didn't know there was any left."  
It was then that the microwave beeped, and I stepped back from the fridge to get the cup. As I turned, I handed the plate of cake to Mac and quickly kissed him before moving to the microwave.

It wasn't much later that we were both sitting at the counter, empty cups and plates in front of us. I was feeling sleepy and I could see that Mac's blue eyes were starting to close.  
"Time for bed?" I asked quietly.  
"Yea, leave the dishes for later," he told, as he stood.  
Noiselessly we went back to bed, taking extra care not to make noise as we made our way past Bozer's room.  
I slipped into bed, making myself comfortable again.  
Mac pulled me close as he got into bed. I kissed him gently before turning to get some sleep. Before I could fully turn away Mac got hold of my arm and pulled me close to him. He kissed me again, more soundly.  
"Thank you," He whispered against my lips.  
"Every time," I replied.  
With that we both lay down, wrapped up in each other's arms. As I drifted into sleep, I felt Mac's breath even out and slow as he finally fell asleep.


	15. Sleep's Sudden Embrace

It had been a long few days at the Phoenix Foundation. About three days ago the team had been sent overseas to deal with some threat that, quite honestly, I now couldn't even remember. While they were away, the rest of the organisation had started coming in for routine check- ups, a full physical and blood works. None of this was urgent work, but with people working a variety of shifts and coming in from other unrelated assignments, it did make for some longer than usual days for me.  
I had been coming home to an empty house, Bozer having been sent with Mac overseas. The quiet had me contemplating the feasibility of getting a pet, something living to greet me at home in the instances that I was the only one in LA. The thought was short lived when I nearly tripped over a motorcycle part that Mac had left on the lounge room floor.  
At least Bozer had left meals in the freezer that I could pull out and reheat before falling into bed. I pulled out a container of lasagne, flicking my eyes between the oven and the microwave before checking the time on my watch. It was past my normal dinner time and I really couldn't be bothered waiting for the oven to heat up. Bozer would forgive me. Or not. But what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

Not long after the warm meal was consumed, I was curled up in bed, flicking through social media before I went to sleep. That was when my phone started ringing in my hand.  
"Hey Mac," I answered with a smile.  
"Hey to you, too." His voiced floated through the speaker.  
"Please tell me this call is because you've finished up and are on your way home." I said.  
He laughed. "Pretty much. We'll be on our way home within the next couple of hours."  
"Good, it's lonely here without you." I told him. "Are you alright? Your voice sounds rough."  
"I'm fine, just tired." He replied. "I'll see you in about 15 hours."  
"What's the time there?" I asked. There was a mumble in the background.  
"About 6am," he relayed back to me.  
"Okay. Get some sleep on the plane then. I'll see you back at the Foundation," I said, before ending the call.  
Smiling, I lay down and closed my eyes. Soon they'd be back and I could stop worrying.

I was sitting in the lab, running samples through the machine when the door hissed open. I looked up to see the figure of Matty Webber, Director of the Phoenix Foundation, walk through the door.  
"Morning Matty," I called out.  
"Morning."  
She walked up to my desk. "I've just had word that MacGyver's plane has touched down. They should be arriving back at the Foundation in about half an hour."  
I nodded at her. "Debrief first?"  
She confirmed that and then told me that the team would be free for the rest of the day.  
I tidied up a bit then waited for Mac to say he was back in the building. Debrief or no, he always stopped by my lab to greet me first, unless he was made to go to medical.

About 40 minutes later, my phone chimed as I was going through some results on my computer. I slid the device towards me, unlocking it as I did so.  
'Open the door' my message read.  
Quickly standing, I walked to the lab door and opened it. In front of me was MacGyver, smiling and holding a small bunch of flowers.  
"You have access to my lab, you know," I grinned, taking the flowers.  
"I know," he replied, "but isn't this a nicer surprise?"  
I nodded as he pulled me into a hug. He smelt of motor oil (nothing new), his leather jacket and sweat. He was wearing the spare shirt he had packed, so I was guessing the team hadn't had a chance to shower before they got on the plane. Riley wouldn't be happy.  
"You'd best get down to Matty," I said as I took a step back. "You know she doesn't like waiting and she's perfectly capable of keeping me here late in retaliation." I smiled at him.  
Now that I was over the rush of seeing my boyfriend for the first time in about three days, I noticed a few things. His normally neat hair was sticking up in all directions and there were bags under his eyes. Also, his usually precise movements were just a tad slower. Before I could say anything though, Mac had kissed me and then let me out of the hug.  
"You're right. I'd better go debrief," he said. "We should be done by lunch. I'll come by and get you."  
And with that he walked out of the lab, leaving me with a bunch of flowers and feeling a little worried.

Just as Mac thought, they were done with the debriefing in time for lunch. He came up to my lab, Riley and Hack tiredly trailing in his wake. Bozer had apparently given in to the jetlag and had gone straight home after the debriefing. We sat as a group in the Phoenix foundation cafeteria. Jack had quickly eaten his food and gone to grab a dessert; while Riley was picking at hers with a large cup of coffee clutched in her other hand.  
As someone who knew them well, I could tell all three were suffering from jetlag and sleep deprivation. It was obvious in the way Riley was blinking owlishly, in the cheerful way Jack was talking as if he was worried he'd crash if he didn't, and in the overly controlled movements of MacGyver's hands.  
"You guys should go home and sleep," I told them.  
That comment got shakes of heads and murmured negatives.  
"Don't wanna mess up my body clock," Jack commented. "My jetlag is bad enough as it is."  
"What he said," Riley added.  
"You could at least take a short nap," I reasoned. "Set a timer or something. You all look dead on your feet."  
Riley was nodding slowly, the idea growing on her.  
"I might do that…" she said.  
Jack shook his head again. "Nah, I'll go spend some times down in the gym and then head home. Make it an early night."  
Mac was too busy scribbling something on a napkin to notice that our attention had turned to him.  
"Sweetie, why don't you go home?" I said. He looked up at me, blinking a few times as his eyes focussed.  
"No, no I'm good," he replied. "I've got stuff I can work on in my lab. Plus, Bozer took the car, so I was hoping we could head home together."  
I nodded slowly. "Sure, I finish at four today anyway."

Just before we all separated, Jack grabbed me by the shoulder.  
"Are you alright?" he asked.  
"Yea, I'm fine. Just had a few nights where I didn't sleep all the way through."  
Jack nodded in understanding.  
"Keep an eye on Mac, yea? I don't think he slept so well either and I can't tell how much sleep he got on the plane."  
That would explain a lot, actually.  
"I'll get him to come up and help me in my lab," I told Jack.  
He clapped me on the shoulder and we parted ways.

I did succeed in eventually getting Mac to come up to my lab. There wasn't really anything I needed help with, but it was always interesting to see where or how Mac thought he could improve the efficiency of the tests.  
For the last half hour, Mac had been sitting by one of the computers but his head was resting on one hand. His gaze was unfocused when he tracked my movement around the room. But he hadn't actually been watching me for the last ten minutes. That in itself wasn't unusual, but the fact he also wasn't working on something was.  
When the clock ticked over to 4pm, I shut down the computer and checked that the machines were okay to run on their own.  
"Home time," I said, tapping Mac on the shoulder.  
As I hung my coat up, Mac got up. He wobbled a little as he stood, hand going to the bench to steady himself.  
"Bit tired?" I said casually, grabbing the car keys.  
"Only a little bit. I'll be fine, really."  
I linked my free hand with his as we made our way out, but held onto the keys. He may have thought he was only a little bit tired, but there was no way I was going to let him drive.

Mac started dozing off in the car, head resting against the window, but every time it looked like he was about to drop off to sleep he jerked his head up.  
Thankfully the roads were fairly quiet for LA and it wasn't long before I was pulling the car into the driveway.  
Mac sat up when I switched off the engine, looking across to me.  
"Home now," I grinned. "And tomorrow's Saturday so we don't have to go anywhere."  
Mac smiled back at me, but it held a brittle edge.  
As we got out of the car, I noticed he was still a little unsteady on his feet.  
Just how little sleep did he get these last few days?

When we made our way inside, Bozer greeted us in the kitchen where he was making something as a snack. I stopped in the kitchen dropping my bag on a bar stool for the moment.  
"Grilled three cheese?" Bozer asked, holding up the plate by the stove.  
"Yes, thanks," I replied. "Wait, we had three types of cheese in the fridge?"  
"Yea, Philly cheese, cheddar and the mozzarella was in the freezer."  
"Huh, there you go," I laughed.  
"Hey Mac, want a grilled cheese?" Bozer called.  
There was a muffled reply from the direction of the lounge, but neither Bozer nor I were able to make out what was said.  
I made my way into the room to find Mac sitting on the couch, wedged between the back and the arm rest with his legs pulled up onto the seat. A frown crossed my face as I went to him.  
"You good?" I asked in concern.  
He scrunched up his eyes and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just a headache. I probably didn't drink enough water these past few days."  
He tried to sound off handed, but his voice was gravelly and his speech slower than normal. Personally, I thought the headache was from a lack of sleep, but I could tell Mac was being stubborn about readjusting to SoCal time.  
"Glass of water and a grilled cheese sandwich?" I asked instead.  
"Sure."  
"I was thinking after maybe we could try building the Lego Curiosity Rover that I got?"  
I rolled my eyes with a smile.  
"Okay, but only if you don't start replacing Lego pieces with your own."  
"Deal," he agreed before sealing it with a kiss.  
I got up to go grab the food and Mac leant back against the couch and tried not to wince at the crash that sounded from the kitchen.

"Is he alright?" Bozer asked as I walking back in.  
"He says it's a headache from not enough water," I replied, filling a glass. "But I think he needs sleep. He did want a grilled cheese though, thanks."  
Bozer turned back to the ingredients, making another sandwich up. "I don't reckon he slept much on the plane."  
I hummed thoughtfully. By the sound of it Mac was running on very little sleep, maybe even less than he could cope with. All I could hope was to convince him to have an early night, and hope his stubborn ass didn't pass out before then.

The Mars Curiosity rover sat half built in the middle of the lounge floor. Scattered around the two of us were Lego pieces, and the instructions which now hold notes in Mac's scrawl, improvements for future builds. Bozer was nowhere to be seen, saying that the last time that he and Mac tried to build Lego it had ended in a minor argument. He also threatened the both of us with the fact he wouldn't cook if he stepped on a single block.  
I looked over at Mac, who was trying to fit a small piece of the motor together. He rubbed his eyes for the second time in as many minutes, and then closed one eye as he brought the Lego pieces together.  
"Honey, maybe you should have a quick nap?" I said gently. "Not long, just half an hour."  
He shook his head. "I'm getting tired, but I can hold on until about 8." He rose. "I just need another glass of water."  
Rather than heading to the kitchen straight away when he stood, Mac paused for a moment. Carefully he picked up his glass and the plate that had held the frilled cheese sandwiches. He was moving slowly, still not really steady on his feet. I rose under the pretence of stretching and watched as he made his way to the kitchen. His hands shook as he placed the placed the plate and glass on the counter. One hand gripped the counter top and I started towards the kitchen myself.  
Suddenly, Mac crumpled towards the floor. I ran to the kitchen, getting there in time to grab the under his arms and lower him to the floor. As I was running I shouted to Bozer, who came running out of his room.  
"What happened?" he asked, crouching down beside me.  
"Not sure," I replied, trying to lay Mac on the floor comfortably. "He was really shaky when he stood up. I think he passed out."  
"Probably," Bozer agreed. "Now, how are we going to get him to your room?"  
"Could you support his arms and back if I carry his legs?" I asked.  
"Yep. Shame neither of us are as strong as Jack."  
"Jack needs to be strong enough to pick him up," I laughed. "He's had to carry Mac's unconscious ass too often already."  
Gently the two of us picked Mac up and walked to the room that he and I shared. Mentally, I was hoping that he wouldn't regain consciousness until we could put him on the bed. If he woke up and started moving, we'd drop him for sure.  
Thanking my laziness this morning, I pushed the bedroom door open with my foot and we lowered Mac on the bed. Our timing was perfect, because a few moments after putting him down, Mac regained consciousness.  
"What happened?" He frowned.  
"You passed out, man," Bozer told him. "We had to carry you to your room."  
"You carried me?" Mac looked both shocked and a little guilty.  
"Yea, Jack isn't here to do it," I shrugged.  
"Not sure if we should be offended by his surprise," Bozer commented.  
"I passed out?" Mac was still stuck on that.  
Kicking off my shoes, I sat on my side of the bed as Mac pushed himself to sitting. Bozer chose to perch himself at the foot of the bed.  
"Yes, you passed out. In the kitchen. As I watched." I told him.  
Mac had the grace to look ashamed.  
I put my hand on his thigh. "Honey, how much sleep did you get on the plane?"  
"Four, five hours?"  
"And the night before that?"  
"Umm…"  
"Three," Bozer interrupted. "We all got about three hours sleep."  
I drew in a breath and let it out slowly.  
"Right, Right, okay." I was rambling a bit. "You've been awake for like 13 hours, on top of a mission where you hardly got any sleep to begin with. And we were woken early by Matty when you were called in." My brain caught up with the situation. "Bloody hell, Mac."  
Mac himself looked a little shocked. "Oops?"  
Bozer shook his head and look at his phone.  
"Look, it's nearly dinner time. I could make dinner, well, more grilled cheese. Because SOMEONE," here he broke off to look directly as me, "hasn't done the groceries."  
"Didn't have time, wasn't sure when you'd be back." I said casually.  
Bozer rolled his eyes at me.  
"There's leftover roast beef in the fridge, at least," I told him.  
"Right. BBQ roast beef toasties?" Bozer asked. "Cause really Mac, you need food and then you need to sleep."  
Mac rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. I smiled gratefully at Bozer as he stood to go cook.

A short while later Bozer returned, a tray piled high with toasted sandwiches in his hands.  
"Is it alright to eat on the bed?" he asked.  
"Sure," I replied. "I can't see Mac moving any time soon anyway."  
In the time that it had taken for Bozer to prepare the toasted sandwiches, Mac had managed to stand up long enough to quickly shower and change into track pants and a loose T-shirt. Once he sat back on the bed, he'd barely managed to keep his eyes open.  
We talked quietly as we ate, both keeping an eye on Mac as we did so. We'd all eaten two or three sandwiches and the tray was now sitting empty on my bedside table. It didn't take long for Mac's speech to start slurring, his blue eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to keep them open.  
In the middle of a story, Bozer paused.  
"Man, you look beat." He commented.  
Mac raised a hand to tell him to keep talking, but Bozer frowned.  
"Nah, I'm gonna grab this tray and so dome work in that short film. I'll be off to bed early anyway. Night all."  
With that he took the tray and left the room.

Mac leant back against the head board, head falling against the wall.  
"Go to sleep," I said gently, running my fingers through his hair.  
He turned his head, cracking his eyes open just enough that I could see the barest sliver of blue.  
"I wanted to spend time with you," he whispered. "I feel like I've been gone ages."  
"Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't have to be at work and neither do you." I kissed him softly.  
"We can spend all our time together then, but for now, you need to rest."  
Mac nodded, smiling sleepily at me. He shifted so he could kick off his track pants and slip under the covers. I stood up, intending to go and do the dishes as I wasn't feeling tired yet.  
"Can you," Mac croaked as I reached the door. He stopped speaking and cleared his throat. "Stay with me."  
I dropped my head from the door handle and turned around. Mac was lying on his side, one arm stretched out over my side of the bed.  
Well, there weren't many dished from toasted sandwiches, they could wait until tomorrow.  
I grabbed a book as I returned to the bed, reclining on top of the covers with one hand linked in Mac's.  
"I missed you," he told me drowsily.  
"I missed you too," I replied.  
Shortly after that I heard his breath even out and in minutes he was fast asleep.


	16. Ice Cream Sunday

You know it's going to be a warm day when you're already hot and all you've done is wake up. I supposed being wrapped in the arms of another human being didn't exactly help.  
I wriggled one arm free and reached for my phone, flicking the thin sheet off of my body in the process. It was 9am, a sleep in compared to the hours I normally worked. As I became more awake, I started hearing noises filtering in. The birds chirping outside, trees moving ever so slightly and crashes and bangs from the direction of the kitchen. Mentally filing the fact Bozer was awake, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. The arm that was now sitting on my stomach stretched and beside me Mac groaned as he woke up.  
"It's warm. What time is it?" he asked.  
"Nine," I replied as I rolled to look at him.  
"Eugh, okay."  
I laughed at him. "I thought you'd be used to the heat after Afghanistan."  
"Never said I liked it. I just dealt with it," he grumbled.  
We lay side by side for a bit, enjoying the relative peace. The sheet had been flung to the foot of the bed and I'd unhooked my feet from it so they were resting on top of the bed.  
My stomach growled, breaking the serenity.  
"Suppose we should get up," Mac said, quirking an eyebrow at me.  
"My stomach wants food, but I just want coffee."  
"Iced coffee." I amended.  
He shook his head as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. I followed suit, running my fingers through my hair.  
"Mac," I called out just before he got to the door.  
He stopped and turned to me, catching the shorts I threw at him.  
"Put those on. Bozer's already up."  
Bozer had made it clear after one incident that there were things that best friends just shouldn't see. Mac in his underwear was one of them. Not that this group hadn't already seen plenty of each other by accident and virtue of their jobs, especially when it came to Jack.

Sitting at the kitchen bench, the three of us only lasted about an hour before we started to complain about the heat. I didn't think it was unbearably hot, but it was enough to be uncomfortable.  
"You guys got plans for the day?" Bozer asked.  
"No," Mac replied.  
"Stay cool, do nothing, eat ice cream," was my reply.  
"I like the girl's thinking," Bozer cheered. "I was actually thinking of making some ice cream to eat later."  
"Homemade?" My eyes lit up at the idea.  
Bozer nodded. "Mocha and rocky road."  
"Yes," I fist pumped.  
Mac looked between the two of us and shook his head.  
"You're not going to be able to eat it until it's frozen, you know," he reminded us.  
"I know, I know. Which is why I'm gonna start on it now." Bozer stood and started collecting ingredients.  
"How long do you think you'll be?" I asked.  
"Not too long, maybe an hour max?" he replied.  
"Then the beach?" I called.  
Beside me, Mac gave me a strange look.  
"Why the beach? We have a pool, and if you want company then we could call Jack and Riley and Matty." He was confused.  
I shrugged my shoulders. "I like the sand and the salty air."  
Mac grimaced at the mention of the sand. It had gotten into everything he owned while he was in Afghanistan; he wasn't particularly fond of it.  
"Your girl has spoken, Mac," Bozer laughed. "We're having a beach day."  
"Alright, but if you're dragging me to the beach then Jack can suffer with me."  
He was smiling though, so he wasn't too upset.  
"Well then, best let him know," I smiled sweetly, tossing Mac his phone.

The beach was as busy as you'd expect for a hot day in Los Angeles. Families, couples, friends and even the odd lone sunbaker lined the sand and splashed in the water, trying to escape the heat. Bozer, Mac and I had set up a beach umbrella on the sand, towels spread underneath it. We were still waiting for Jack, who was going to pick up Riley on his way.  
Lying on the sand, I could feel the sun warming my skin even as the sand stuck to the sunscreen. I could hear the lazy crash of waves over the sound of people talking and children's shrieking laughter, occasionally punctuated by the call of a seagull. Closing my eyes, I drifted into a half sleep.  
That sleep was interrupted when someone sat next to me, tapping me on the shoulder. Opening my eyes, I saw Riley looking at me.  
"Planning on heading into the water?" she asked. I still had a loose dress on over my swim suit and board shorts. She, on the other hand, was dressed in just a black bikini.  
"I will be in just a moment," I smiled at her, as I pulled the dress over my head.  
We turned to the three males, who each had claimed a towel of their own.  
"Are you guys going to join us?" Riley asked.  
Jack shook his head, while Bozer and Mac both said they'd join us later.  
I shrugged my shoulders and both Riley and I turned to make our way to the shoreline. I could feel eyes on me, and I looked back to see Mac smirking at me, and then blush at a comment Jack made. I shook my head then ran into the water.

True enough, about half an hour or so later Mac and Bozer both walked into the ocean.  
"No Jack?" I asked.  
"Texans don't swim," Mac said with a laugh. "Or so he kept saying."  
"So we left him bemoaning the lack of beer," Bozer added.  
I lay back in the water, kicking my legs to stay afloat. Unfortunately as I did so, I splashed Mac. In retaliation he flicked water at me, but missed and hit Bozer. Bozer yelped and scooped up water to throw at Mac. But Mac moved as he saw the water coming and it landed on Riley instead. We all froze for a moment as she spluttered but then laughed.  
"Oh you are all on!" she shouted as she wiped salt water from her eyes.  
Then chaos broke out and it was every person for themselves in an all-out water fight.

Eventually the mania died down as we all became exhausted and soaked through. Mac's hair was plastered to his head, while mine and Riley's hung around our faces and dripped down our necks. Bozer was the only one that didn't look like a drowned rat, his far shorter hair still looking reasonable. It was a unanimous decision to head back to the beach to dry off a little and reapply the sunscreen that the ocean had washed off.  
"What happened to you four?" Jack asked, surveying us through his sunglasses.  
"Water fight," Mac replied.  
"It was epic," Bozer added, mock seriously.  
"So, who won?"  
The four of us looked at each other, dripping onto the sand.  
"No one," Riley decided.  
We each found our own towels and I stretched out on mine, letting the warmth of the day dry me before I reapplied sunscreen. It was interesting to watch the people on the beach, how they interacted, or studiously avoided other people. Families tended to congregate together, children finding playmates in each other despite having never met before. Almost as one, the children looked up as they all heard a noise. I stifled a laugh as they all ran to their parents as a group. On the pavement behind us, slowly trundling along, was an ice cream truck. The music had caught the children's attention. It had also caught mine.  
"Maaac," I called sweetly.  
"Yea?"  
"Ice cream?"  
We had brought one bag with things like sunscreen, keys and money as well as the esky filled with drinks.  
"Oooh yes, ice cream!" Bozer shouted.  
"Didn't you just make some at home?" Mac asked.  
"Not going home in the next hour, are we?" Bozer replied.  
With a snort, Mac passed me his wallet and Bozer his.  
"Do you want anything?" I asked Mac as I got up.  
"What about you, Riley?" Jack asked, also standing.  
"Get me whatever," she said. Then her eyes widened. "Actually, no. You'll get me some ridiculous ice cream with a face on it. Get me one with a flake."  
"Get me the same as Riley," Mac answered me.

There were a few kids already lined up at the truck, so we leisurely made our way over. When we reached the truck there were still kids waiting so we joined the line, content with waiting until the mass of children had been served first.  
As I ordered the two ice creams I discovered a problem. I was still wearing only my swim suit and board shorts, which had no pockets. With an ice cream in each hand, I had nowhere to put Mac's wallet.  
"Here, I can put it in my pocket," Jack said, reaching to take the wallet from me.  
"How did you know?" I laughed.  
"You've been with Mac too long," he replied. "You both have the same thinking, problem solving face."  
He scrunched up his face, apparently trying to mimic the 'thinking face.'  
"We do not," I mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream.  
"You kinda do," Bozer agreed. "Yours is just a little cuter, and less likely to get us killed."  
"Don't tell him I said that," he added.  
"Which part?"  
"'Both parts."  
"Bozer's not wrong," Jack pointed out. "I'm surprised Mac hasn't built anything from scraps at the beach yet."  
"The esky," was all I said.  
Jack thought then nodded.

We were all quiet as we ate the soft serves, each enjoying the cool treat. Bozer's was covered on as much chocolate and as many sprinkles as he could get. Mine was slightly tamer, being chocolate dipped and a flake. As promised, both Mac and Riley had a single flake in theirs. Jack had opted for a plain ice cream. It was probably the first time he was the most sensible one out of all of us.  
Once I'd finished mine I wiped my face, knowing I had ice cream or chocolate on it. I was somehow totally incapable of neatly consuming ice cream.  
"You've got something here," Mac pointed to his own face.  
I raised my hand, wiping where I thought he was indicating.  
"No," he shook his head. "Here, let me."  
Mac leant over, one hand on my hip to balance himself. With the other hand he wiped the spot of ice cream off. Then he leant in closer and slowly kissed me. I forgot about the others until Riley interrupted.  
"Gross, get a room."  
Mac pulled back and laughed. "Later."  
"Anyone got a spare room for the night? Or a couch? Mattress on the floor?" Bozer joked.  
I threw my balled up napkin at him, accidentally starting a game of catch.

It was getting to 6pm when we decided we had all had enough of the beach and it was probably time to head home.  
"Have you got plans for dinner?" Bozer asked Jack and Riley.  
Both of them shook their heads.  
"Come around then. I was just going to do a barbeque and salad." Bozer told them.  
"Sure. I reckon I might have some chicken wings and Ma's marinade at home." Jack mentioned.  
"Yes, Jack!" Riley cheered. She had tried ma Dalton's barbeque marinated wings when she was younger and they were one of her favourite things.  
"Better than that, we have chocolate chip cookies and mocha and rocky road ice cream." I told her.  
"First of all, sacrilege. Nothing is better than Ma's chicken wings. Secondly, hell yea ice cream sandwiches." Jack cheered.  
Mac rolled his eyes at the childlike glee in Jack's voice.  
"Well, the sooner we head home, the sooner you get them," he said.  
Jack all but jumped up, starting to fold his towel and pack the other things he had brought.  
"Chop chop, Ma's wings wait for no man."  
Laughing, the rest of us followed suit. Jack's excitement was contagious.

I walked into the kitchen, a loose dress now replacing my swim suit, to find Mac and Bozer arguing over a salad.  
"Both of you, out." I instructed them. "Go deal with the barbeque or something."  
"What? Why?" Bozer asked.  
"You're arguing over salad," I pointed out. "So I am going to make two big salads. I'm going to make them my way and then there will be no problems."  
"Mac blows things up or sets them on fire when he uses the barbeque," Bozer reminded me.  
I looked over at the blonde, who shrugged and grinned.  
"Right, I forgot your pyromaniac tendencies. Could you go get plates and stuff then?"  
He nodded.  
"And make me a spider?" I called after him.  
"Aren't you going to have enough ice cream later?" he called back.  
"Nope," I replied, popping my 'p' obnoxiously.  
Mac did, however, make me a creaming soda and vanilla ice cream spider. So I'm pretty sure I won.

Everyone was sat around the fire pit which hadn't been lit in the heat. Empty plates were scattered around the place and glasses filled to various levels sat by each person.  
Sitting in the adapted esky, Bozer's two tubs of ice cream were now only half full. Jack was on his third ice cream sandwich, but it would have to be the last one, as between the five of us we had eaten all the cookies.  
"I'm so full," Riley moaned, "But the ice cream is so good."  
I made a noise in agreement.  
"If you want more you'll have to go get bowls," Mac said.  
"I think there are some cones in the pantry," I commented, stretching out in the decking.  
"No one needs more ice cream, surely," Riley said as she lay back.  
"Aww, Riles, come on," Jack mock pouted.  
"You'll get fat, old man!"  
Jack put a hand over his heart. "You wound me."  
"If everyone's right, I'm just going to have a food coma over here." I called from my spot.  
I close my eyes as they laughed. Despite the heat, it had been a good day.


	17. Confetti! It's a parade!

'The East Los Angeles Christmas Parade is this weekend,' were the first words to greet me as I walked through the door on Tuesday afternoon.  
"Hello to you too," I said to Mac, dropping my keys in the bowl.  
"Hello, did you have a good day?" He asked as he gave me a quick kiss.  
"Yes, I did. Now, what were you saying about the Christmas parade?"  
"Well, the parade is this weekend and the weather is supposed to be okay. And I've wanted to introduce you to Annabelle for a while. So I was thinking we could take her to the parade," Mac explained.  
"Annabelle Pena?" I double checked he was talking about who I thought. Annabelle is the daughter of Mac's C.O., who was killed by one of the Ghost's bombs shortly before his daughter was born.  
"Yes, I've been telling her about you sometimes when I go visit," he smiled.  
"Sure, check with her mum and if it's okay then we'll pick her up around 10am."  
I was secretly a bit flattered that he'd told Annabelle about me and that she wanted to meet me.

It was 9am and I was just putting a bag of things in the boot of Mac's car. We had decided to pick Annabelle up at 9.30am rather than 10am, just to give ourselves extra time to get to the parade.  
"Ready to go," Mac called, walking up to the car.  
"Yep, we've got everything."  
"Even the booster seat in the back?" Mac had borrowed a booster seat from someone at Phoenix, worried about Annabelle's small frame and the seatbelt if we got into an accident.  
"The booster seat is fitted correctly, you worry wart," I laughed.  
He shook his head. "I know, I trust you. It's just…" He shrugged.  
"You feel like you owe it to Pena to keep Annabelle safe." I summed up.  
"Yea."  
"Well, let's give her an awesome parade day then."

I saw a curtain twitch as we pulled up outside the Pena household. I was fairly certain Annabelle had been waiting for us to arrive. I was proved right when the front door swung open as we both got out of the car and a young brunette girl came barrelling down the front steps.  
"Mac!" she called out as she ran to him.  
He bent down to give her a hug as she reached him.  
Behind them, standing in the doorway was a lady, obviously Annabelle's mother. I waved at her with a smile and she nodded back, walking down to meet us on the front lawn.  
"Hello, Mac," she said. "Thank you for taking Annabelle to the parade."  
"Hey," he replied. "You're welcome. It's really no problem."  
Mac knelt back down to Annabelle's level.  
"Annabelle, I'd like you to meet someone. Do you remember me telling you about my girlfriend?"  
The young girl nodded, looking over to me. She smiled shyly.  
"This is her," Mac said.  
"Hello. Are you a princess?" Annabelle said softly to me.  
I smiled but blinked in confusion.  
"Hello Annabelle. Why do you say that?"  
She shrugged. "You look like Belle."  
I looked down at what I was wearing; blue flats and a blue dress with a white cardigan over the top. I had the front pieces of my hair pinned back. Now that I thought about it, I did look like Belle.  
"No, I'm not a princess. Sorry." I smiled at her.  
"Can I call you Belle anyway?" she asked.  
That startled a laugh out of Mac.  
"Annabelle, that's not her name," Annabelle's mum reprimanded her.  
I crouched down to the young girl's level.  
"You can call me Belle if you want." I said kindly.  
"I think it fits," Annabelle told me. "You look like her. And Mac says you're smart and like reading, like Belle. And Belle's dad is a crazy inventor, and Mac's not your dad but he IS a crazy inventor."  
Annabelle's mother started laughing, while Mac blushed but nodded in agreement.  
"You know, I think those two will get along just fine," she said to Mac.  
"Yea, I think they will," he agreed.  
I stood up.  
"It's nice to meet you too," I said to the older lady as Mac started talking to Annabelle about the parade.  
"You seem like a good girl," she said approvingly. "And you make Mac happy."

As we got Annabelle into the car, her mum gave her the last minute instructions that parents tend to do. 'Don't wander off, behave, stay safe.'  
"I'll be good mum, I promise. And I'll stay with Mac or Belle the whole time," the little girl said seriously.  
"Alright, I love you." She kissed Annabelle before shutting the car door.  
"We'll have her back by four, at the latest," Mac promised.

We found a park easily enough and still had a good half an hour before the parade was supposed to leave from its start location. We were somewhere near the middle of the route.  
I twisted in my seat to face Annabelle.  
"Do you like face paint?"  
Her eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.  
"Would you like some for the parade?"  
"Yes!" she shouted in excitement. "Please," she added after.  
"Okay, let me get my paints and you can tell me what you'd like," I told her.  
Mac looked at me in confusion.  
"Aren't your paints at home?"  
"We're going to the parade," I said plainly. "I put them in the boot."  
"Are you going to do yours too?" she asked.  
I grinned at her. "Sure. Have you decided what you'd like?"  
"A butterfly." She said decisively. "A Ulysses butterfly."  
I looked across at Mac. "Now she sounds like you."  
I recognised the name but couldn't quite remember which butterfly it was.  
As I pulled the paints out of the boot, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out to see a text from Mac with a picture. It read 'The blue one' with a photo of a Ulysses butterfly attached.  
I let out a sigh of relief, Mac had obviously seen my confusion and helped me the best way he could.  
A couple of minutes later, Annabelle had a butterfly on her face and with Mac's help I was just finishing off the fairy pattern on my face.

As we waited for the parade to start, I noticed someone walking down the street with a fairy floss machine on wheels.  
"Hey Annabelle," I pointed over. "Do you want some?"  
She looked across and then back at us.  
"Can I?"  
"Of course," Mac replied. "If Belle holds our spot, we can go and get some." He'd taken to using the young girl's nickname for me in her presence.  
When I nodded, the two of them went over and got fairy floss on sticks. Three, one for each of us.  
We had finished the fairy floss by the time the parade started, and despite the amount of sugar she had just consumed, Annabelle was standing still as we waited for the first float to come trundling down the road.

The first 'float' of the parade was a group of three mounted police officers, calmly directing their horses down the road amidst cheers and children's shouts of 'horsies'. Annabelle stared in awe at them and I had a feeling she might be asking her mum for a horse later.  
The rest of the parade passed in a continuous sequence of brightly coloured floats with carrying takes on the Christmas theme and multiple bands playing different Christmas tunes. There had also been a float for the local animal shelters and Annabelle had fallen in love with all the animals on there. It had taken a bit of convincing on Mac's behalf to talk her out of asking to adopt all of them. Though I think some of that conversation had been aimed at me as well.  
Like all the children there, Annabelle had been most excited to see Santa. She started jumping up and down, trying to get a good look at the float as it approached.  
Mac knelt down, telling her to sit on his shoulders and hold on when he stood up. With his hands gripping around her ankles, and her hands on his shoulders, Mac stood up.  
Annabelle now had a clear view over the top of everyone's heads, watching Santa in his sleigh making his way down the road towards us.  
"Belle! Mac! It's Santa!" she shouted. "And all his reindeer. Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and Donna and Blitzen." She pointed as she recited them.  
"What about Rudolph?" I asked.  
"Well, actually Rudolph…" Mac began before I elbowed him in the ribs.  
"Ow! What was that for?" he hissed.  
"Don't Mac, just don't."  
"What? Oh." He realised what I meant.  
Luckily Annabelle was too focussed on the float to pay attention to our exchange.  
"There's Rudolph, at the front," the girl called.  
As the float got closer I could see that the mechanical reindeer at the front did indeed have a glowing red nose. We watched Santa pass by, Annabelle on Mac's shoulders, until Santa and his reindeer could no longer be seen in the distance.

It was about lunchtime when the parade was over. There was an event on the oval at the end of the parade route, music and face painting and most likely food.  
We decided to head down there, figuring that if Annabelle didn't want anything there, we could always go somewhere else after.  
The oval was a jumble of live music, children's laughter and adults chattering. There were people everywhere, and I tightened my hold on Annabelle's hand. On the other side of her I could see Mac doing the same, subconsciously scanning the crowd as he did so.  
"Annabelle, do you know what you want for lunch? Or do you want to have a look around first?"  
She thought for a moment, and then looked up at me.  
"Can we have a look? And go on the jumping castle?"  
"Alright, but jumping castle before food, okay?"  
"Okay," she smiled, charging off in the direction of the inflated structure, dragging Mac and myself behind her.

It was another twenty minutes before Annabelle got off the jumping castle, declaring she was 'definitely hungry now.'  
As we started our circuit of the oval in search of food, I found a community club handing out small bags of popcorn and more fairy floss. Quickly standing in the fairy floss line, I pulled Annabelle with me. I left Mac to collect two bags of popcorn.  
"Would you like some fairy floss, sweetie?" the gentleman asked Annabelle.  
She looked at me warily, before turning back when I nodded.  
"Yes please."  
He handed her a stick and her face lit up.  
"Thank you," she smiled.  
"Would you like some too?" he asked me.  
"No, thanks," I laughed. "I'll stick to popcorn." I pointed to where Mac was picking up two bags, one for each of us.  
"Have a good day then," the man said cheerfully as we left.  
We continued wandering around, munching on our snacks as we went.  
As we walked we found hot dogs, pizza, sausages and steak sandwiches, chips and baked potatoes. The van selling the chips also had hot cinnamon doughnuts, which I was definitely going back to once we had eaten 'proper food.'  
"So, what does everyone want?" Mac asked.  
"Pizza," Annabelle announced.  
"Probably a cup of chips," I answered. "You?"  
"I was thinking a hot dog," he told me.  
The hot dog van and the pizza van were side by side, with the van selling chips about fifty meters from it.  
"I'll take Annabelle, you get your chips." He told me before bending down to whisper something in the young girl's ear. She giggled as she nodded and I eyed them suspiciously.  
"We'll meet you back here," she smiled at me before the two of them went off to get their food.

The line for the chips wasn't overly long, but when I got to the front of the line I was informed that they were just cooking up a fresh batch and it would take about five minutes. I was happy to wait, and I could see that Mac and Annabelle were still in the line for Mac's hot dog. Annabelle was clutching a small pizza box. As they got to the front of the line, my name was called for my food. I turned back with my chips in hand but I'd lost sight of them.  
Instead, I made my way through the people to where we were going to meet, a table nearby miraculously empty. I spread my bag out beside me, hoping to save room for them when they got there.  
I didn't have to wait long, Mac and Annabelle bounding up to the table a minute or two later. Annabelle was carrying her pizza box and a large cup with a straw. Mac was holding an identical cup in the hand that didn't have his hot dog. I looked at Annabelle's grinning face as she slid onto the seat, then back at Mac who smirked at me.  
"What's in the cup?"  
"Chocolate milkshake," Annabelle cheered. "Mac said we can't have pizza and hot dogs without a milkshake."  
I looked across at him. "Did he now?"  
"Yup! But we didn't get you one because Mac said you didn't like them." Annabelle looked sad.  
"They make me feel sick," I explained to her.  
She nodded, then opened her box and started eating her pizza.  
I batted Mac's hand away as he leant across to steal one of my chips. He then offered me the hot dog in exchange so I then let him take a chip.  
It wasn't too long before we had all finished our food, Annabelle doing well to eat two pieces of pizza and the milkshake after the fairy floss.  
However, it did mean that she was full of sugar and energy, and we weren't going to let her back on the jumping castle.

I had spotted a playground as we walked in, just before the entrance to the oval. There were benches for parents to sit at and equipment for children of all ages to play on. We still had about two and a half hours before we had told Mrs. Pena that we would have Annabelle back, which gave her plenty of time to run around the playground and go back to the jumping castle if she wished.  
"Annabelle, do you want to go to the playground for a bit?" I asked.  
When she nodded enthusiastically, we collected our rubbish and made our way to the play equipment.

Annabelle quickly made friends with some of the other children there and they ran around together, leaving Mac and myself to sit in afternoon sun and keep an eye on her.  
"I think you might have to carry her back to the car," I commented.  
Mac groaned, but laughed. "Maybe a doughnut will give her enough energy to get back to the car?"  
"Maybe," I agreed. "It's quarter past three. If I get them now, we can eat and Annabelle can run around for a few more minutes before we take her home."  
Mac nodded in agreement and I rose to leave, giving Mac a quick kiss.  
I heard an 'ewwww' as I walked away and I saw Annabelle making a face at Mac. I shook my head and continued on my quest for doughnuts.  
I returned about five minuted later, a bag of hot cinnamon doughnuts cooling in my hand. There were six in there, enough for two each. If Annabelle managed to eat both doughnuts then I doubted the young girl would want dinner tonight.  
As I walked over Mac called out to Annabelle, who stopped what she was doing and rushed over when she heard the word 'doughnuts.'  
"Annabelle, we'll have to take you home soon," Mac told her.  
She pouted. "A few more minutes?"  
"Ten more minutes," he said.  
She stuffed the last of her doughnut in her mouth, wiping away the sugar with the napkin I passed her.  
Then she rushed off to spend the last few minutes she could playing with her new friends.

Mac didn't have to carry Annabelle back to the car, but we did have to slow our pace for the tired girl.  
She started nodding off in the car as we drove her home, waking up each time her head started to fall.  
We pulled up out the front of Annabelle's house, and let her out of the car. Annabelle insisted on ringing the doorbell herself, stretching up as far as she could so her fingertip could hit the button.  
When her mum opened the door, she rushed forward and started talking, telling her mum everything that she'd done during the day.  
"Annabelle, sweetie," her mum interrupted. "Have you said thank you yet?"  
She stopped and turned, looking at us sheepishly.  
"Thank you Mac, thank you Belle. The parade was awesome and so was the playground."  
"You're welcome," we said in unison. Annabelle's mum looked at us and Mac shrugged. This wasn't the first time that had happened.  
"Thank you for the face paint Belle," Annabelle added.  
"You're more than welcome, Annabelle."

It was quiet in the car on our way home. After the noise and excitement that Annabelle had brought with her, the peace was welcome but also slightly strange.  
"I'm so glad you and Annabelle got along," Mac told me, talking a hand off the steering wheel to grip mine.  
"So am I. I know she's come to mean a lot to you."  
"For someone who says they aren't good with kids, you got on very well with her." He smiled.  
"Hey, what can I say? She's a strange mix of the both of us. And she thought I was a princess." I grinned.  
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"  
I smirked. "No. At least not while Annabelle still wants to call me Belle."  
"Christmas is different through a kid's eyes," Mac commented a bit later.  
"It is. It's more fun."  
He shook his head. "No, I think it's more magical."  
I had to agree with that.


End file.
